Unplanned Obsolescence

 After years of [somewhat] adequate service, I recently bid farewell to a key member of my team here in this studio. I was not prepared to part ways. I spent several months and dollars seeking a resolution. But the matter simply could not be resolved favorably. 

For context, I refer to the computer I use in my studio as "The Flying Machine". It's been used as a window to the world for my work, so the name fits. Also, it was easy to identify when I needed to connect devices to the computer. We're now on the second (or third) Flying Machine. Its companion (my printer) has been around for quite a bit longer, but still functioned fairly well. The printer also had a name: "Sadie Sidecar".  

As sidecars go, the printer was mostly dependable. Until about six months ago when the printhead died. And then here's this big, robust machine,

still powering on and connected, but useless without a functioning printhead. It would have been relatively easy for me to just ditch this printer, replace it with something newer, and not give it another thought. 

But my problem is principle. I take care of my things. I invest first money, then time and energy to maintain the things I have. This goes for things in my studio and beyond. So when a printer stops working because one part fails, I'm looking for that part so I can continue to use the device that I'm familiar with, that's still in good condition, that can still do the job when the parts are all cooperating. 

Before I began my quest to find a replacement printhead (the thing that holds the cartridges inside), I borrowed a compatible printhead from someone who has an identical printer, and proved to myself that the printer could still work fine. It did, so I was determined to 1) save old dependable and 2) avoid adding to the massive landfills of old tech hardware poisoning kids in third world countries who are paid pennies to extract bits of copper from otherwise useless and toxic trash. 

I say quest, and that is not an exaggeration. I spent months searching for a new, OEM printhead replacement online. But when the manufacturer stops making parts because, well, they've moved on and don't want to provide support, or aid, or comfort for folks who are loyal users of the products they now consider obsolete, it's a wash. So I moved on to trying compatible and then refurbished components. 

To my dismay, none of the printheads I ordered turned out to be Sadie's glass slipper. But ultimately I wanted to be able to say I tried every possible fix. I had even found directions for cleaning a printhead online and given that a try. No dice. So after months of searching and trying, I begrudgingly gave up. 

I had done my due diligence and it was time for Sadie Sidecar and I to part ways. I kept worrying that immediately after I got rid of this printer, a solution would arise and I would be left to live with the regret and guilt of caving to the phenomenon of planned obsolescence.

 
It was a nagging feeling. That hasn't happened, but I am still left with the "what ifs" And the landfill guilt. And I have yet to muster the strength (or the time) to start the search for a replacement printer. But I will. The Flying Machine needs its companion. 

a silver lining: a friend recently gifted me a "like new" Chromebook MADE FROM RECYCLED MATERIALS! It's been helping the Flying Machine with some of the heavy lifting