How to Build Your Own Computer

For nearly 30 years, Mr. Knowalot has used and enjoyed computers. This includes the one that was rumored to exist at Pasadena Community College (PCC) in the late 60's, when I took a class in Computer Programming. Nobody ever saw this computer, but it must have been there because we sent stacks of keypunched cards and always got results, often in a mere semester and a half.

Sometimes this could be an anxious wait if, say, we computer students were trying to calculate something critical, such as the trajectory of a rocket to the moon, or the amount of continental drift in a solar year, or the precise number of milliseconds until one of us got a date (3.4+E154 and counting for one particularly unhygienic fellow).

Times have changed since my junior college days. Computers have gotten more sophisticated. So much so that Mr. Knowalot figured it was time to have even more fun. I figured, "It's time not only to enjoy using computers ... it's time to build my own!" Well, if you've ever had this inkling, my advice to you now is: forget it! When I went on my first date, it was way more fun and involved somewhat less bleeding.

The whole fiasco began, as most fiascos do, as a notion. Then it developed into a full-blown whim. I remember it well. On an otherwise normal Thanksgiving Weekend, spent at my wife's parent's territory in and around Grand Rapids, Michigan, I was a tag-along while a sister in-law shopped for computer parts and supplies, which she would get for free. Yes, free, after the rebates. So she bought shopping carts full of stuff, and all she has to do is:

1. fill out the rebate cards,
2. find the receipt and circle the rebated item,
3. tear the proof of purchase seal off the box,
4. put all this stuff into an envelope,
5. address and seal the envelope,
6. put a stamp on the envelope and mail it.

After this process has been repeated for each item, she will have spent absolutely no money (except for the shopping carts, which according to the terms of the deposit may have to be returned).

However, I did not come here to pick on my sister-in-law, as I have little solid ground on which to stand. For my weakness was exposed during a fateful moment in a place called Computer Warehouse. They had a number of already-put-together computers. But this was the kind of place that appealed to computer geeks and geek wannabees. Everywhere you looked, there were parts! And the prices seemed reasonable. Computer cases for $25 ... motherboards for $60 ... floppy drives for $29 ... video cards for $35 ....

I did some quick calculating. (Well, for me it was quick, although I longed for that speedy computer from PCC.) Soon I realized that, if I were to put it together myself, I could actually possess my own brand new personal desktop computer for about $700 (monitor sold separately). So I breezed around the store, picking out components that I would include in my new machine, all the above plus a sound card, an AMD 166 MMX chip, and a 2.6 gigabyte hard drive.

I was so happy.

Soon, though, I would be fully aware why I'm called Mr. Knowalot and not Mr. Know-It-All. For I don't know it all. I'm still learning. And boy, have I learned a lesson.

The lesson began once I got the computer home and started putting it together. I quickly discovered why the case had cost only $25 -- it was defective. Every time I reached in, whether to seat the motherboard, fish out a dropped screw, slide in the hard drive, or fish out another dropped screw, I'd slice off pieces of flesh. The factory in China had decided not to hire whoever gives these things the once-over for sharp edges. So I saved some money buying a cheap case, but paid the difference in blood.

Eventually I got all the pieces in, including a CD-ROM drive that I'd purchased a few weeks earlier in anticipation of this wonderful day. But when I turned on the machine, it did nothing. Everything appeared to be plugged in, but there was nothing on the screen. Must be the ribbon cables. Pull them out, twist them around ... nothing. Pull off jumpers and put them in different positions ... nothing. Reseat the video card ... nothing.

Plug the computer in, dummy! It's plugged in. But wait, there's some strange cables dangling from the power supply. Do these go somewhere? There are no instructions with the motherboard. Okay, look at your other computer. Ah, these cables power the motherboard. Plug them in. Nothing. Pull them out and try them the other way ... AH HA! So I saved money buying a cheap motherboard that had no instructions, but my blood pressure is 20 points higher (or it would be if I had any blood to cause pressure).

Then the computer booted up. Yay! But when I went to format the hard drive, I got some weird message: "Trying to recover allocation units ... 643." The next day I called Computer Warehouse. The guy said, "Yeah, you've got a bad hard drive." So I saved some money buying a cheap hard drive ... oh you get the idea.

Since it would take weeks to get a replacement, I purchased a new hard drive from a local dealer. I also bought a monitor, keyboard, mouse, and network card. Then the power supply burned out the network card, so I had to replace it, plus get a new case and motherboard. Now I finally have a new computer, and it works, but the only parts remaining from that little store in Michigan are the CPU, the floppy drive and the sound card ... and the drive doesn't sound too healthy.

Still, even though this was overall an exasperating experience, there's always a certain sense of accomplishment that goes along with completing any project. Lately I've felt this euphoria, a light-headed bubbly-ness that is somewhat pleasant, like a mild buzz from a cocktail or two.

Either that, or I've lost more blood than I thought.