Conferences are usually great, and the ASJA conference was everything I expected and more. But then comes the Monday morning after the conference. I return from these things with a mile-long to-do list and a head full of possibilities. I’ve learned all about “how to use social media to build your platform.” I now have “everything you need to know about e-books.” I’ve collected lots of “tips for producing a podcast.” I’m sidestepping the “ten ways to blog your way into a lawsuit.” And I’ve experienced how “Sree explains it all,” in which Columbia J-school professor Sree Sreenivasan crams as many social media tips as possible into three hours.

Exhausted from non-stop learning and networking over three days, I have to face a week of deadlines and demands while the stacks of notes and business cards from the conference sit accusingly on my desk. Come on, they nag, you need to connect with all these folks on Twitter. Remember those three editors who expressed interest in getting a pitch from you? Better follow up soon or you’ll lose them. But I have three editors to whom I owe actual stories or outlines this week. And those great tips on podcasting? In one corner of my office sits a box with a fancy $300 digital recorder I bought last year, after a conference in June got me all excited about producing podcasts for my blog. I haven’t used it once.

The ASJA conference was great. But the chasm between all the potential opportunities gathered there and the day-to-day grind of reality here at my desk seems impossibly wide. Maybe things will look better tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’m going to get some aspirin for my aching head.

Why haven’t I gotten rid of the beast? For one thing, it still works fine. And besides, I don’t watch that much TV.

OK, the real reason is fear. Setting up a new TV has become more complicated and intimidating than setting up a computer. I remember the days of having to reinstall software, update drivers, and doing dozens of other things by trial and error to get PCs to work. It didn’t take hours; it took days. But the computer industry has improved the process immensely. It’s still not idiot-proof, but at least I don’t need a degree in computer science to do it.

Meanwhile, TVs have moved in the other direction. Rather than just plugging them in and turning them on, you have to be an electronics engineer to get everything connected and playing well together.

My sister’s experience is a perfect example. Last spring, she and her husband bought a 46-inch flat-screen HDTV. With a beautiful picture like that, of course they wanted to complement it with the best audio and video components. But integrating all the components – Blu-Ray player, stereo receiver, CD player, cable and Internet – turned into what she calls her “high-end nightmare.”

The Best Buy salesman assured them that the Geek Squad could do it all. The Geeks came, they installed and connected everything, quickly demonstrated how everything worked, and then they were gone. But the head geek reassuringly left them his card, so they could call him personally if they had any problems.

An hour later, they had problems, and thus began “six months of hellish trial and error.” There was finger pointing between the Geek Squad and Comcast, then the head geek simply ignored my sister’s voicemails. Comcast came and switched out the cable box several times before one of the technicians finally admitted that the Comcast remote didn’t communicate with several of the new components. My sister and brother-in-law were on their own.

Once they got the BluRay player hooked up and tried to play a BluRay disc from Netflix, an error message popped up on the TV screen saying the BluRay player required a software upgrade. They hadn’t planned to connect the TV to the Internet yet, but now they had to in order to get the upgrade they needed. But the TV wouldn’t connect with their WiFi network. They had to call in a home multimedia specialist, at $140 an hour, and even he had trouble making it work.

Now, six months later, they’ve mostly figured it out. But they need four different remotes, depending on what component they’re trying to control. They keep notes near the TV so they can remember how to turn various components on and off. And they can’t play a simple audio CD without the TV monitor booting up and running rhythmic patterns of color to illustrate the music.

The total cost of the TV, components and fees for various technicians: more than $2,500. The time spent tinkering in frustration and chasing after the Geek Squad, Comcast and other technicians: 50-plus hours. “The sheer mental anguish – priceless,” my sister deadpans.

Who needs that? That’s why I’m buying a new computer this year. In fact, I may even throw out the old Sony and put the new PC in the living room. After all, with the PC, it’s easy to watch movies and TV shows, listen to my music and tune into the radio. Oh, and did I mention it can access the Internet, too?

How does a freelancer plan for disasters? For years, I simply prayed they wouldn’t happen and scrambled when they did. But as I’ve wrestled with the wrath of nature, spotty utility service and just plain rotten luck, I’ve taped together a few safety nets. They won’t impress the experts, but they don’t cost much and so far have been reasonably effective.

Power outages. I’m on a weak part of the grid, so my power goes out on a regular basis, sometimes for no apparent reason. I have my PC and office equipment on an APC surge-protected uninterruptible power supply that cost less than $100. It protects my PC when the power flicks on and off. It provides backup power to keep everything running for 20 minutes after the electricity stops, then shuts everything down in an orderly way – so no data is lost nor sensitive electronics damaged. If my power stays off for longer than it takes to walk the dog, I have a couple of options. I can devote the time to phone work, placing voice mails or doing interviews. If I’m on deadline to write a story, I can move to my battery-powered laptop. (I keep current projects on a USB drive so I can plug it into the laptop when needed.) When battery juice is gone, or if I must have e-mail and Web access, I move to the nearest Starbucks or to a nearby friend or relative’s house.

Phone problems. If I depended on Verizon to fix phone problems promptly, I would have been out of business a long time ago. I have two phone lines, so if I have problems with one I can usually use the other. But my two-line phone can get fried by a power surge, despite the fact that it’s plugged into the surge protector. It seems to happen during thunderstorms and I suspect the surge is coming through the phone wiring itself rather than the electrical connection. I go through two to three phones a year because of this. So I’m prepared by having a back-up new two-line phone – brand new and still in the box –in my storage closet.

Hard drive crashes. For me, backing up data was like dieting. I could stick with it for a week or two, but that was about it. After years of dodging this particular disaster, I finally found a painless way to safeguard my data. Mozy is a service that for $5 a month automatically backs up my PC every night, or whenever I want. It’s also handy when I’m on the move with my laptop, because I can log into Mozy and grab any files that I might need.

Illness. Here’s where I’m most vulnerable. My latest disaster recovery story covered how IT departments can prepare for the swine flu pandemic. But there was little advice that I could use. In a company of one, I’m in deep trouble if the one falls ill. Good thing I’m healthy and tough. When I had an emergency appendectomy a few years ago, I took my files to the ER and worked while waiting to see a doctor. I was a little late on the story, but got it done.

Stretching the technology, and the truth. When I set up my home office in 1998, I ordered two regular phones lines plus an ISDN line for my Internet connection. When setting up the order, the Verizon rep assured me that I was within the ISDN distance limits of Verizon’s central office. When my ISDN line explicably and routinely went down, technicians regularly called to my house were stumped. Then one day an unusually competent tech casually mentioned that I was located right on the cusp of the distance limits. After I got done screaming, I cancelled my ISDN line and got a cable modem.

Tag-team ducking. This is when Verizon sends one crew – the inside crew – to diagnose the problem. That crew quickly determines that it’s an outside problem, so the outside crew is called in. When the outside crew arrives, it can’t find the problem and insists that the inside crew return. This continues until the customer meets the Verizon crew at the front door with a shotgun.

Maintenance of pure profit. My latest Verizon fiasco was just last week. I’m renovating my office and while the drywall is off I called Verizon to check the condition of the phone wiring. Two technicians showed up. One’s job was apparently to chat me up while the other expertly wielded a screwdriver to remove the faceplate in an effort to look like he was doing something. (The wall was wide open.) The verdict was that the wiring was OK but was vulnerable because it was not enclosed by a gauge box. Great, I said, go ahead and do it. Verizon, however, doesn’t do gauge boxes. For the $12 per month I’ve been paying for more than 10 years for Verizon to maintain my inside wiring (that’s over $1,500), I don’t get a $5 plastic gauge box that will probably help avoid another service call.

I’d switch to the Comcast triple play, but its technical service is on a par with Verizon’s. (More to come in a future post.) I’m looking for a third option. Voice over IP? Drop the land lines and go totally mobile? I’ve heard great things about FIOS, a fiber-to-the-curb service rumored to be coming to my neighborhood any day now for the last year. And who provides FIOS? You guessed it – Verizon. If it comes, I’ll probably give it a try. Maybe, just maybe, I stand a chance of becoming that rare and endangered breed: a satisfied Verizon customer.

Until the computer breaks, or the phone goes on the fritz, or the power goes out. One of the few negatives about being a freelancer is that I have no IT department. When something goes wrong with one of the machines that I rely on to make my living, it’s up to me to fix it or to hire the right person to fix it.

It’s ironic that I write about IT and electronics, but I can’t fix my own technical problems. That always amazes people. But it shouldn’t. Do you expect the health reporter of your local TV station to be able to diagnose and cure your illness?

I have been blessed in that I have a good friend who runs an IT consulting business. When I have a major problem with my PC, Dave is usually available to come to the rescue. (Thanks, Dave!) However, Dave is spending more and more of his time at his beach house, which is four hours away. Good for Dave. Bad for me.

I’ve developed a few coping strategies over the years, which I will share over the next few weeks. I ask that you add your comments and tips as well. Maybe we can develop a “Freelancers Technical Survival Guide” of sorts. Meanwhile, may your power stay on and the black screen of death never darken your desk.