To Hear The Wizard

I know the Wizard of Oz. His name is Yuriy. And he speaks with marbles in his mouth.

Actually, I don't know what Yuriy holds above the chin, that interferes with the more regular flow of English, but his is far from the average intonation in my neck of the woods. In fact, his sound is unique even among speakers in HIS (admittedly much more cosmopolitan) neck of the woods.

Yuriy networks computers for a living. When he's adding a function or tweaking the system that allows me to work from home, his name can roll off my lips like a curse: "YUR-EEEEEE!! WHY, Yuriy, WHY??"

After his efforts knock me off the network and I come to the end of my limited problem-solving ability, I email and he calls to problem-solve over the phone. When I see the familiar number after the 212 area code, his name can ring in my head like church bells. Sound the celebration! Deliverance is at hand! "Yuriy! Hello! Thanks for calling!"

I'm still a touch disturbed, but overwhelmingly relieved, when Yuriy takes over my screen and begins to move my cursor. Windows flash and muttering ensues ("Uu, mah Gut! Mah Gut! Jhest a mee-net. Jhest, jheest...") He adjusts things I cannot see behind the curtain of my computer.

Yuriy could be chanting incantations and making animal sacrifices for all I know about what he does to keep us in business. It's very much like he's a wizard in a little room, pushing buttons none of us see and altering his voice to make following his directions not for the faint of heart.

Given the differences in our minds and make-ups, I have come to SO like and respect my wizard! Yuriy knows his stuff. He's patient (as he has to be when I can't find the "help" pull-down), and he's diligent. I suspect Yuriy is razor-sharp smart, as well. Today, he solved a problem for me and I asked, spontaneously, something I have never asked him: "What did you DO?" There was an obvious silence; he made some aborted noise in his throat, and then there was no answer. I like to think Yuriy considered -- just for a millisecond -- telling me. Then he knew it was hopeless to try. But it's better this way. Sometimes, our curtains shouldn't be pulled open.