A co-worker who recently experienced a computer malfunction at home warned everyone: "Make sure you back up everything."

Of course that makes sense and saves people heartache when their computers blow up and all is lost. As files clog our computers, it should be a no-brainer to make sure they don't go MIA at a crucial time. But most of us are just too lazy.

A few months ago, my husband bought an 8 gigabyte external hard drive to save copies of our thousands of digital photos and music files. He said the computer had been acting funny, but I didn't agree.

I also was really busy and didn't make a point of setting it up. He thought I was going to do it since I'm the more computer literate one.

But there the external hard drive sat in its box while I plugged away on the PC, assuming everything was fine.

That became a thing of the past when I came home to discover my computer, which I named Jackson when we bought him a few years ago, wouldn't turn on. A little green light flashed on Jackson's back, showing me that power was getting to it, but maybe not enough?

I checked all the inputs and outputs to make sure everything was plugged in. I would hate to be the person who freaks out only to realize, "Duh, it's not plugged in."

When I discovered that everything was as it should be, I took the plunge and called the maker for some much-needed technical support.

After being reminded a few too many times that our warranty had expired, I was given the offer to pay $49.99 plus a fee for who-knows-what to talk about my sick computer for the next 14 days. If I really wanted good support though, I could spend twice as much and get support for a whole year!

The man on the other end assured me that "99 percent of all problems are fixable" before taking my credit card information and transferring me to Reena, a technical support employee somewhere in a country far, far away.

As I heard the air of a foreign land on the other line, I explained to Reena that my computer would not turn on. Then her expert troubleshooting took over.

"What happens when you turn it on?"
"It doesn't turn on."
"What noise does it make when you turn it on?"
"It doesn't turn on."
"What does the screen say when you turn it on?"
"It doesn't turn it on."

I'm not sure if a tech support in Wisconsin would have been more helpful, but with each connection delay in the overseas conversation, I started to wonder if the manual Reena was reading from was really going to save my files.

After Reena began to understand that the computer did not, in fact, turn on, she gave me a series of useless steps. I held the power button in for 15 seconds. I then held the power button while tapping F8. I wanted to rip off the power button and throw it at Reena, but that would do nothing either.

She sent me inside the unit, where I discovered small piles of dog hair and dust collected over the few years we'd enjoyed Jackson.

As I unplugged and replugged the cable to the internal fan, Reena waited quietly for Jackson to spring back to life. No deal.

Then she gave me the last resort: removing and replacing the RAM. She assured me that the computer would make a noise. The only noise was my breathing as I tried to hold back tears, imagining every photograph we'd taken in the past three years of marriage lost forever.

"No noise?"
"That's right, nothing."

She then informed me that it had to be my motherboard, which I could replace for $300. Reena assured me that all my hard drive files had been lost, and for a few desperate moments I believed her.

After she explained that nothing could be done for me and gave me many options to buy new stuff, I realized that I was in that 1 percent of people who cannot be helped by technical support.

Jack and I were quick to blame each other for Jackson's demise. If only I had set up the external hard drive. If only he had opened the box and set it up himself.

Jackson's fate has not been determined yet. This week he has an appointment with a computer store in the neighborhood that assures me nobody will ask me a dozen different ways, "What happens when you turn it on?"

I hope all our files are not lost. Then I can shout a big "whatever" to every person who has asked me, "You didn't back up?"

I didn't back up, but next time I will. Maybe you should, too.

Laura Lewis Brown is an adventurous newlywed who has loved, lost and doesn't mind sharing. Her column appears every other Thursday.