Ho, Ho, Ho, Crash!

By JOSHUA QUITTNER

'Twas right around Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring -- except George Molnar and his mouse. Molnar, president of Midwest Business Systems, a Southfield, Michigan, computer outlet, had just brought home a top-of-the-line IBM clone -- one of those multimedia wonders that come preloaded with dozens of software titles and bedecked with a CD-ROM drive, stereo speakers and a way-too-big monitor. The machine was "a Cadillac," says Molnar, except for one thing: it was having trouble getting started. Molnar sat there, mouse in hand, pointing and clicking, trying to use his new library of 45 software programs. Only a dozen or so actually ran.

Molnar's surprise and disappointment were shared by perhaps hundreds of thousands of other buyers this Christmas, who purchased home computers only to discover that the accursed things didn't work -- or at least didn't work well. While 1994 was a record breaker for the computer industry (18.4 million PCs shipped to stores), many analysts are wondering if 1995 won't be remembered as the Year of the Returns.

According to Richard Zwetchkenbaum, research director at International Data Corp., 5.8 million personal computers were shipped between October and New Year's -- the largest volume ever. Significantly, more than 40% of those machines went to home users. This was the year when millions of Americans -- having resisted the computer industry's blandishments for more than a decade -- finally made the plunge. And that may spell big changes for the industry. In the past, according to Liz Buyer, an analyst at T. Rowe Price, people put PCs in their dens primarily so they could bring work home; now they seem to be buying computers as they buy TVs -- for their entertainment value.

That puts a burden on computer manufacturers to make machines that are as easy to use as TVs. Experts say that even in a good year, as many as 10% of computers sold will be returned to stores by disgruntled customers. Judging by the lines at return desks last week, this is not a good year. "Returns will be a big deal for the first quarter," says Buyer, who points out that most of the big software companies have set aside twice as much cash as they usually do to offset returns.

They'd better, because there are some angry people out there. Like the Ippolitos, a Brooklyn family who were in line -- not online -- at a J&R Computer World store last week, waiting to return a piece of software that wouldn't work. The family owns two late-model computers, IBM clones, so that both Nick, 14, and Zachary, 11, will always have a machine for marauding and avenging. A few weeks ago, their father bought them the CD-ROM game Front Page Sports Baseball '94, by Sierra Online. The game, which the boys opened Christmas Eve, couldn't be installed properly. Nick says he called Sierra's hot line "for five hours, once every five minutes" and kept getting a busy signal. Finally, unable to determine whether the fault was in the program or in the computer, they returned the game.

What's wrong with the new machines? IBM-compatible computers in particular have long suffered from a lack of uniform standards. Add-ons like modems and monitors and mice made by scores of different manufacturers often conflict with the guts of the machine. But the advent of CD-ROM players and the CD-ROMs that they (sometimes) play has introduced new opportunities for disaster. Unlike music CDs, CD-ROMs come in a bewildering variety of formats, each of which has its own arcane hardware requirements. Disney Interactive has been deluged with calls from unhappy parents who purchased the Lion King Animated Storybook CD-ROM and were unable to get it to roar. The program required something called a 16-bit sound card, rather than an 8-bit sound card -- a distinction beyond the reach of many new computer owners.

The computer industry is scrambling to address these problems. Microsoft, | the leading producer of software in the IBM-compatible world, is encouraging other computer firms to adopt a new "plug-and-play" standard that is supposed to minimize equipment and software conflicts. But Apple, which has enjoyed a slightly better reputation for building machines that work, is licensing its system to other vendors so they can knock off cheaper Macs. This may make Apple's clones as unreliable as IBM's are.

Meantime, what are the folks who bought balky computers for Christmas supposed to do with their new $3,000 doorstops? Take heart: the business of answering techno questions is growing almost as fast as the computer industry. There are shelves of magazines and books, of course, as well as classes and consultants and self-help gurus offering advice on radio and TV computer shows. Toll-free telephone help lines abound, although the traffic is so heavy right now that it's difficult to get through. Sometimes the best advice comes from ordinary people who have coped with the same "fatal error" messages. On the Manhattan-based online salon called ECHO, the forum devoted to computer first aid captures the desperation of novices. The forum's title: "Shoot me now. With a really big gun."

With reporting by Tom Curry/New York and Michael McBride/Detroit