It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday

In the spring of 2000, for my high school graduation present my mom surprised me with a brand new computer: a Compaq Presario. She didn't even gift wrap the thing. After I finished cutting the graduation cake, my mom snuck into the garage, opened the trunk of her car, and lugged the big thing into our living room.

"I hopes you likes its," she cheerfully said. "I got a greats deal at Best Buys!"

I smiled weakly at my proud mom and surrendered myself to one of her patented anaconda hugs.

At the time, that Compaq Presario wasn't the computer I would have chosen for myself. It was like expecting a Honda S2000 and getting a Ford Escort. When I started college the next fall, every nerd on my floor made sure I knew that it wasn't what they would have chosen either.

They'd say, "I would have at least gotten a Dell."

Or they'd say, "Celeron??? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Or, "I built my computer."

It was so humiliating. Whenever I turned my Compaq on, every dog in Dekalb would start howling. It was that ghetto. One time, I went to Gamestop to buy The Sims, but came home empty-handed after learning that the only game that my computer had the recommended specs for was Solitaire.

The absolute worst was playing music. Even when I upgraded my RAM, even when I made sure there were no other applications running, even when I defragmented my hard drive weekly, music could not be played on my computer without skipping. Skip-skip-skipskipskip. It was maddening. Five minute songs stretched out to twenty, and that was assuming Windows wouldn't freeze up on me.

And as always, the nerds of my freshman dorm floor would tiptoe out of their rooms, towards the skipskipskipping sounds of my computer trying its damnedest to play Metallica, and they'd ridicule me. They'd say, "How can you stand that? BUY A NEW COMPUTER!"

As James Hetfield would stutter, "Exittttt ligh-igh-ighigh-ight... Enter-ter-ter-ter-ter n-n-igh-igh-igh-igh-ight," I'd stay positive by jabbing my right hand the same way I'd scratch a record on a turntable, and I'd remark, "It's the remix, ya'll!"

...

That was seven years ago. It's 2007 now, and somehow, some way, my Compaq Presario has outlived the PCs of all of those belittling nerds. Maybe it was Windows 2000, maybe it was the heat sinks, maybe it was me sleeping with my windows open in the dead of winter... but I'd like to think this thing refused to die out of sheer heart.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end. Other than the fact that the CD-ROM died, the Compaq Presario is still working just fine. But because of an incredibly generous gift from my buddy Roy, who gave me his two-year-old custom-built PC and flat screen monitor for free tonight, I'm moving on and making new memories.

It's been a great ride. We've been through countless viruses, three operating systems, several reformats, and 9/11. If my Compaq Presario was a real-life person, it'd be named Compy -- kind of like those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park -- and it would be halfway through the second grade by now. I'm going to give it to my sister, whom I hope will take good care of it.

Tears are running down my cheeks as I write this. But it's time to say goodbye, perhaps with Boyz II Men poignantly playing in the background: "How do I-I-I-I-I say g-goodbyebyebye to whatwhatwhat we h-h-had?... The-the good t-t-t-t-times that made us laugh... Outweigh the bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad-bad..."