It was a simple commitment, one I made to myself as a child. I was too young at the time to realize how important this commitment would be in adulthood, especially as I have grown older. With the promise to remain creative, I made a pact with myself to be a life-long learner. I would gladly accept the challenge to learn new things and dive head first into the unknown without reservation. After all, I could always use Youtube university as my backup and a simple video has often been my salvation in times of distress.
This past weekend, I decided, to relocate my website to a new host. Historically, the site has been maintained by a family member, but in all fairness, I felt the need to release him to focus on his full-time job. He is an expert in such matters, though, and sadly, I am not. But I can learn? Right?
“Do you know what a DNS is?” Mr. J. asked.
“DNS? Do not resuscitate? Wait…that would be DNR.” Truthfully, after multiple hours behind a computer screen working with the new host and Mr. J, I felt more unresuscitable than not. My bottom hurt and my brain had left the room hours ago.
The site transfer was supposed to be easy, a simple click on the screen icon to whisk my files from afar to my new location. The attempt came back with an error message – “This option is only available for WordPress sites.” What? Not even an, I’m sorry. Not to mention that the site IS a WordPress site. Still, the verdict was in. The site would have to be transferred manually. Unfortunately, there is no arguing with a computer. Trust me, I tried that tactic and the screen just stared at me in protest.
“Can you send me the server files?” Mr. E. asked.
Mr. J. was not present for that request and I really didn’t want to involve him late on a Sunday evening. I explained my dilemma to Mr. E. in the chat window. “I do have a backup file, though. Will that work?”
“It should,” said Mr. E, directing me to yet another page on their host site. At that time, I already had several pages up, bouncing from one to another on command, like a ping pong ball. I brought up the page as directed and moved to yet another window, clicking through several screens to locate my backup files.
“Are you still there?” Mr. E. asked. “It’s been a while.” This would be one of the multiple times Mr. E. would ask me that question.
Mr. E., if only you knew.
I uploaded the files and after several minutes passed, Mr. E. asked for a progress report. “Um…they are uploading,” I said, “but it is slow going. We are on number two of nine files.”
“Oh, okay. Let me know when the upload is finished.”
Several more minutes passed. “Are you still there?” Mr. E. asked again.
“Uh-huh. Still uploading.”
“Would you like to try a duplicator plug?” he asked. “That would make a backup in a single file. Might be quicker.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I said, “We can if you want to.” I checked the upload. “Two more to go,” I said.
I brought up yet another webpage and logged into the website, searched for the duplicator plug-in, and hit install about the time Mr. E. said, “I don’t think we’ll need the plug-in after all. Looks like we’re getting close.”
More time passed. “You sure you don’t want to try the plug-in?” I asked.
“Might as well,” Mr. E. said.
“Looks like you need to purchase the pro version for this task,” I remarked. I didn’t see an option to produce the backup. It was there, but by this time my eyeballs had taken the same train as my brain.
“It’s there,” he said.
“Where?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I can’t see where you are on the site.”
Grrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!
Finally, I located the missing duplicator button. “I think we’re good,” Mr. E. said. “The upload is complete. Won’t need the duplicator.”
While Mr. E. was busy transferring the site, the phone rang, and on the other end was Mr. J. When Mr. E. returned from cyberland, Mr. J. helped me navigate a final step to change the DNS, but not until he told me that if I did it wrong, my site would disappear. It would still be there, but not visible. My response involved a very careful copy and paste.
After what seemed like an eternity, the site transfer was complete…or so I thought. Everything looked great. Then, I got up this morning and the cleanup I had done before the transfer had magically reappeared and, every posted image from 2021 had disappeared. It is magic, I tell you, and I’m not the one holding the wand.
Now, about that commitment to new learning. Today has been a bit frustrating. Site repair isn’t much fun. But I am wiser and I did learn something. Not bad, I think, for someone who grew up with a rotary phone. Better still, science would agree with my quest for new learning. Studies support new learning as a means of keeping the brain young. Learning helps prevent dementia and I am sure I will find that to be the case if my brain and eyeballs ever return.
Keep smiling! It’s all good!