Saturday, September 8, 2012

Acomdata WCD006-U1007A, We Hardly Knew Ye

My external hard drive, holding years' worth of data, including my collection of art images, personal photos and text files for writing projects, and all the image files for Before Nine, expired quietly yesterday evening while downloading a scan of an early 1930 European print catalog.

Several hours with a number of data recovery programs yielded less than twenty files.

I'm reminded that all things in life are fleeting -- and, living lightly, with (for example) all of the images of your recent life stored on your device of choice, may seem cool and oh-so-now, baby. But, like the Intertubes Bubble of the late 1990's, it can pop and leave nothing behind.

Bummed.



MEHR, MIT SCHLAG: After beating myself senseless against my keyboard for hours trying to recover my data, I received a call from the Indefatigable Moldavish Guy, whose delightful Small Childs 01 and Small Childs 02 are the Stuff Of Legend, and whose Spouse wishes to kill me. A high-powered technical resource for an an unnamed Hedge Fund, he chided me:
Dog. I chide you. You use recovery software being years out of date. Try something created after the Boosh election, at least, or I will hit you on nose with tube of newspaper.
And, Moldavish Guy suggested a specific utility application to try.

It was created by a Chinese software development group with a website in a weird, just-slightly-off English syntax. One download, seventy dollars and about two hours later, I was able to recover about 89% of what I once had, and can live with that. The only drawback is that I seem to have a sound scheme on my XP machine which plays "The East Is Red" every time I open or close a program, and I have a really odd screen saver:



So, I offer this as a cautionary tale: Having data without a backup plan is like sucking a rubber Chicken Head, and you will lose all the photos of your own Small Childs. Plus, you'll have to learn all seven verses of 'East Is Red'. Please, get a data backup plan. And real Chicken Head.

I say this to Moldavish Guy; you also.