Home Networking: Printing from a Laptop to a PC Made Easy.

I’m stepping back from my usual rants and curse filled writings to actually write something a bit helpful. I know, don’t faint.

I take a lot of calls on how a user can get their laptop to print a page to the printer that is hooked up to their PC in the other room. Unfortunately, windows makes it look harder than it really is. There are several options that I’m sure a much more qualified person can go on about, but I am going to write about the easiest way to get your printed page from point a to point b.

The key to this is to make sure your network (in this case, I am going to assume 1 PC, connected to a wireless router, and 1 Laptop, connecting to the network wirelessly) has file and print sharing on. If this is the case then you may proceed. If not comeback after someone else holds your hand through that process.

On your PC, go to the Printers and faxes panel under Start > Printers and Faxes. Imagine that.

When you see the icon with your printers name on it, right click on it and then left click on sharing. Select that you want to share this printer with the network, and then click OK.

On your laptop, you must first make sure you are in the same “workgroup” as your pc. Most people have this as MSHOME. Then again, most people don’t secure there network connection and invite hackers in, so who is surprised on that one…

One guy raised his hand in the back.

If you are not sure if your “workgroup” is MSHOME, sit the laptop down, go back to your PC, under the start menu, right click on My Computer and select Properties. Click on the Computer Name tab, and under there you should see Workgroup: (your workgroup name). If you are reading this, I am going to assume it is MSHOME. If you want to change the name to something different, click the CHANGE button. Down at the bottom of the window, you can type in a different name. For the rest of the article, MSHOME will no longer be used, lets call the Workgroup….HORSEANDBUGGY.

If you change the name, you will have to restart the PC. Once it is up and running again, go back to the laptop

Follow the same steps for the laptop, making sure that the Workgroup is HORSEANDBUGGY, or whatever you may have changed the name to. If you had to change it, you will have to restart the laptop also.

….waiting….

Ok, now, on the laptop, under Start>My Network Places you will see an icon for View My Workgroup Computers. Click it.

You will see your PC listed there under whatever name it is known as. If you didn’t change it at install time, it may be a series of number or something like MyPC or something like that. Double Click on the icon.

Next, if you set the printer on the PC to be shared correctly, you will see an icon called Printers and Faxes. This is not the same one for you laptop, this icon will show you the printer that is connected to your PC when you double click on it.

If everything is working properly, you should see the icon for your printer that is connected to the PC. Right click on the icon, then click on Connect. You will get a window telling you that the laptop needs to install the drivers for the machine, just click OK. If you laptop has never been set up for another printer, this printer will become you default automatically, and you are good to go.

Print a test page to be sure.

Hope this was helpful.

My Job: A Rant #2

I tend to meet some of the most interesting people over the phone when they call in for tech support. One of the first memorable calls I took was from a few months back when a lady admitted to me that she thought she got a virus on her machine from surfing too many porn sites. Before letting me speak she continued on to tell me how she was newly divorced with no prospects and when she gets lonely and horny, in her own words, “Sometimes you just gotta, you know, HEEWWWW!”. That is the closest thing I can get to putting into words the sound she made. It was as if a wild badger was going to come through the phone and mount me.

The next memorable calls I received have already been written about, see My Job: A Rant and To the Woman That Told Me to Go Fuck Myself Today.

Just a few minutes ago I finished a 32 minute conversation with a man that was obviously:

A. Self employed and worked from home.

B. Between Jobs or just unemployable.

C. Can get away with some major shit at work.

I’m really pulling for A or B, because the thought of C is just too scary.

I say this because at first I thought this man was mumbling for a reason. I have had at least 3 customers that are older and on oxygen masks, and everything they say sounds muffled or like they are talking into an empty metal coffee can. The first 5 minutes I managed to make out the words IBM, bad, partition, and Screen. That was it. After the asshole stopped holding the phone with his chin and neck, I also managed to make out this, which I will try to type the way it sounded. “HHHWhen I doosh the repair insta. Nothing. Goesh back to IBM loga”.

And by this point I appropriately responded with a “Huh?” Which is my very nice and well mannered way of going “WTF!?”

He then told me “Sorry, I’m think I hab a bit toooo Mush at Lumch.”

So I am now dealing with a drunk. A drunk that needs tech support for his computer. Someone that probably couldn’t explain what was going on with his machine even if he was sober, but now I have to decipher this guys problem while using a Jack Daniels sound filter.

What proceeded, and I don’t have enough time to write it all since I should be doing class work and not spilling my verbal seed onto this page, was the drunken nerds equivalent of “Who’s on First.”

Me: What is wrong with your Machine sir, could you describe your problem?

Him: The firsh partshun ish Bahd.

Me: So you have a drive with two partitions?

Him: Hmmm Yep. Second Partshun.

Me: Are you able to access that one?

Him: Firt?

Me: No. Second.

Him: I doosh the repair insta. It jush reboots at the IBM loga. Sesh winda ish loading, and then reboots back to IBM loga.”

Me: Sir it sounds like you have hardware failure, either your motherboard is bad or the hardrive.

Him: I doosh the repair insta. It jush reboots at the IBM loga. Sesh winda ish loading, and then reboots back to IBM loga.”

Me: Right, either your motherboard is bad or the hardrive.

Him: I don want, I don want to loosh my filz.

Me: Are all your files you want to save stored in the My Documents folder?

Him: Yep.

Me: Well sir when you do a repair install, I know it sounds counter intuitive, leave it up to Microsoft, but the My Documents folder is often damaged or completely deleted anyway in a repair, so there is a good chance that even if the repair had worked, you would have lost your files.

Him: I doosh the repair insta. It jush reboots at the IBM loga. Sesh winda ish loading, and then reboots back to IBM loga.”

Me: Right sir, either you motherboard is bad or the hardrive.

This went on for about 10 minutes.

He then started talking about his monitor and how the drivers won’t work and that it only has a 640-480 resolution. Ok. Nice transition you drunk fuck. I really couldn’t help him fix this problem since he doesn’t have a working machine. I eventually got him to agree with me that once he has a hands-on tech fix his pc, he can take care of this problem with a simple download from Compaq, the maker of his monitor.

I just can’t help imagining him sobering up in the next few hours and thinking his computer wont run because of a monitor driver problem.

Mentally Drained. Physically Exhausted. Emotionally Constipated?

It is Confession time. This isn’t as light hearted and fluffy as my other posts.

I have spent a large bulk of my 20’s going to school part time and then full-time. This translated into going to school for close to 5 years for a 2 year degree. The last few semesters I went full time and saved myself an additional semester of class. On top of doing this I managed to father 2 kids with my wife, so you can say my everyday life keeps me busy with a wife that works nights, a 6 year old and an 11 month old, and a full time job. After earning my degree I promptly jumped back into school and am now in my second semester toward my bachelors.

And I was to the point of just being burnt the fuck out.

I couldn’t concentrate on my school work, I didn’t feel like playing with my oldest boy and when I did it was really halfhearted obligatory kind of play. I managed to love on the littlest one because I knew he needed me to change his ass a few times a minute day, and he just happened to be in my arms most of the time when he wasn’t crawling around looking for something bad to stick in his mouth. (I wish his mother was more like him…but that’s another story)

I felt like I walked around in a daze most of the day. I felt like maybe I should have taken a semester off or something, but then I would probably fall into a trap and never got back.

Just when I think I am about to crack, I decide it is to time to teach my oldest boy to ride his bike.

I had been dreading this because our neighborhood doesn’t have sidewalks, our yard is bumpy and rocky as hell, and my son listens about as well as the rocks he would have been falling on.

He gets up on his bike and instead of following along beside him, I just give him a real hard push and tell him to pedal. He takes off, makes it half way across the yard, and then just lays the bike down on its side like a pro.

Second time he crashes into a bush, but manages to stay on his feet and again, lays the bike down without him falling down.

A few more times and now he is staying up on the bike for as long as his little legs will allow him to pedal through the grass.

I ask him if he is ready to try it on the cement in the cul-de-sac. He says he is. At this point I am still half expecting a trip to the emergency room.

First try, he does about 4 circles around, going right (clockwise) the whole time. Lays the bike down and the pedal scraps along the back of his calf. Usually at that point he throws his hands up, stomps off saying he is never going to do (insert activity here) again.

He bitched for about 5 seconds and then was ready to get back on again.

About 10 minutes later, after riding around in endless circles, practicing using the break, and slowing down and speeding up, he looked at me and asked this:

“Daddy, are you proud of me?”

And just before I answered him yes and began hugging him and kissing his head, I felt the pit of my stomach drop out and all of a sudden I felt sick.

He shouldn’t have ever had to ask me that. Had I really been so wrapped up in my school and work that I didn’t tell him I was proud of him the moment I first pushed him and he made it halfway across the yard? So while I am kissing him and holding him, there I am, a man of 29 years trying to hide the tears from my son and neighbors.

Then he decides to let loose with this:

“I’m proud of you too daddy, because you go to school just like me. School is hard, just like my bike.”

After that, everything seemed so much clearer.

I know this sounds like it came from a cheesy religious pamphlet, especially where you read the word “fuck” and my insinuation about oral sex with my wife, but every word is true.

I wish I could see the world with this kind of clarity all the time.