My beloved grandmother explained these words to me countless times. I've applied those passages from a revered text to many situations in my life.

Now I have printed them out and displayed them on the shelf above my new computer. I've changed the text from KNOCK to CLICK.

The young man who delivered this marvelous work of art (actually it's a hybrid somewhere between art and science) smiled graciously and explained that all my treasures had been carefully transferred from the old computer to the new one. He pointed them out to me before he left: two manila envelopes (or folders) in that plain khaki brown color on the deep blue desktop. After he was gone I clicked on one and nothing much happened except there were more brown folders and icons with all kinds of hieroglyphics emblazoned on them. Like the old saying goes:" It was DeJaVu all over again." This was the third computer replacement and the results were the same each time. My gap of comprehension was the size of the Grand Canyon.

I made another trip to the birth place of my computer .There had been a slight misunderstanding about the modem. That was my fault. I had lost the most important part, that shiny little disk that carried the instructions. The people at Software Central were accommodating. They went on the Internet and found another driver and wrote out instructions for installing it. Along with those instructions I also received instructions on how to access my hidden treasures. The young man handed me the modem and instructions and smiled. After all, it was only a matter of a couple of clicks.

But the problem of getting the modem to release whatever information was needed to make contact with the rest of the world, that didn't happen. You guessed right if you guessed that in all my seeking I was totally lost. I fully understood that the rest of the world had opted for something called DSL, but I had a preference for dialup and getting where I was going at my leisure. The lady at PCIS.NET guided me through the paces and at last I made contact. My modem bugled its familiar little tune. E-mail flooded in, a week's worth of information, not too important.

Then something interesting happened. The new protector of the new computer simply denied access. I could receive, I just couldn't send. No matter how I clicked, all I received were those frustrating little error messages. It was getting late and I was ready to return my new toy and take back my old computer, but I recalled that Rome wasn't built in a day. I slammed the door to my office, and checked the house for ways and means of decadent living. My friend Alexandra had provided me with a bottle of decadence referred to as MUDSLIDE. It was a touch of chocolate, a touch of cream, a touch of sweetness and a touch of rum. I poured a little of that over a couple of ice cubes, watched an old movie then went to bed. Tomorrow, I told myself, tomorrow would be D-Day.

On D-Day somewhere outside the realm of time and space a gentle spirit intervened and brought a favorite grandchild to my door. She explained those things I could not fathom and they made sense. At least enough that I was able to send and to receive e-mail and I could see those treasures I thought I had lost.

For other things I'm still clicking without positive results and I still am unable to access all the things I want and need.

Well I have clicked until I'm blue in the face, and I suppose it is time to buckle down and quietly learn just how one opens the door to those sought after treasures. I remind myself of the time when I thought that links were sausages that went with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. I overcame that hurdle. Next year this time I will be able to smile about today's frustration.