The Men Who Understood Computers

They were the men who understood computers. They knew this about themselves. They were self aware in this regard.
I never understood computers. I had trouble configuring devices. I had trouble configuring a lot of things. Computers seemed almost to be allergic to my presence. I figured it only a matter of time before my calculator developed a virus.
Troubleshooting was always a convoluted, despairing affair. The unfathomable mysteries of technology, electricity.
One day they would develop the ultimate, pre-sentimental, telepathic, all encompassing device that would decode and replicate our desires in a vast feverish codex below a swollen thunder sky. Or so I postulated. But what did I know. I did not understand computers. The men who understood computers were at hand. They were standing by. They were meek and mild mannered. They had few complaints vis-a-vis life. Problems were eradicated. New interfaces were configured if necessary. They were intuitive, like the updated software they tinkered with during endless slow-motion Sunday afternoons.
In 2010 a wide array of content was available. More than any of us could comprehend or absorb with any degree of satisfaction or meaning.
Passwords were set. Virus scans initiated. Shortcuts memorized. Backups created.
I understood damn all.
I meditated to the drone of my refridgerator every night. A heady lull. Until it clicked off suddenly, leaving a trace of almost silent whirr.