Computer desks
Then I sneaked the drawers out to my dad’s workshop in the garage one day while he was out, and carefully used a wood saw to remove the drawer fronting from the drawer boxes. Once I got back to my bedroom, I couldn’t get the three individual drawer fronts to stay in place, so I had to McGuyver-up a solution.
I figured that having to turn the computer off at the wall was a small price to pay to have such an incredible spaceship-esque integrated computer console and - as is so often the case for a ten-year-old - superglue and three-inch steel nails came to the rescue.
Once I had the main box of the computer neatly (and, as I was soon to learn, only semi-permanently) sealed behind the drawer fronts, I was ready to go. I flicked on the switch at the wall, waiting for my new ComputerDesk™ to whirr and click its way to glowing amber life.
Except that I hadn’t turned the actual computer on before I had sealed it into the desk.
I had now nail-and-superglue sealed our expensive family PC into my study desk (which I later and much to my dismay learned, was an antique).
I eventually managed to crowbar the top drawer faceplate from the desk, creating a scratched and splintered mess along the seam, and switched the thing on. I thought I’d better test it to check that it was all going to work before I resealed the desk - I’d make it look neat later. God, my family were going to be impressed when this was all finished!
Instead of the crawling display of amber text on black, I heard a small popping noise and all of the electricity in the house went off. At the very same moment, my mother opened my bedroom door holding a plate of toast and Marmite and a steaming cup of tea that she had brought me as a reward for studying so hard.
Not. Good.
Both the desk and the computer had to be replaced. It turns out that I had managed to staple through one of the electrical wires in the monitor cable and short circuited the monitor. This had blown something on the motherboard. Ah, well. It was time for an upgrade from the 8086 to a shiny new 286 anyway. Not that I would be allowed anywhere near it for at least two months…
It’s probably best for everyone that my days of electronic device/furniture integration ended then and there, with a very angry set of parents, a very sore backside and a boy so grounded, you could have used him for earth leakage (ah, the irony). Otherwise, I may have ended up trying my next experiment, which was to be an underwater armchair with integrated television so that you could watch saturday morning cartoons in the pool with your friends. I had already saved up my pocket money for a long enough electrical extension cord to reach the pool…
No, best that those days are over. Luckily for everyone though, other people (who perhaps didn’t use staples in their early trials) have dedicated themselves to the art - or dare I say, philosophy - of integrating computers into furniture, and have created such profound devices as these:
“The Ergo SecureDesk ensures the safety of your IT equipment and gives plenty of room both above and beneath the desktop. The PC is entirely enclosed in a steel cassette within the desktop. All connections are securely hidden, preventing interference with mice or other peripherals and all drives and ports can similarly be locked away, either permanently or behind lockable plates.”
David Gilbert, Managing Director of PowerDesk International, almost literally stumbled across the idea when setting up computers in the office of his furniture company in the mid-nineties. “I fell off the back of a desk trying to sort out the wires at the back”, he told Flexibility, at the 2003 Flexible Working Solutions Conference. “And being a cabinet maker, I knew all about the wasted space at the back of desks, behind the drawers. So I thought, ‘Why not put the computer inside the desk?’” And so the PowerDesk concept was born.
Or how about…
This one would probably look good on board the Battlestar Gallactica. Chunky and retro, it has a flip-up flat-panel display and fugly computer leg pedestals. (The official site seems to be down at the moment, possibly due to overload, but I’ve left the link in case they come back up again).
Easily confused with similar vapourware model, “I-con YOU”, this desk design is from Dutch designer Michiel van der Kley, who seems to know bugger all about product branding, website design or the ability to speak; but is pretty nifty at desk architecture, as can be seen in this (only) concept picture of the product.
Designed for Apple Mac users, this desk isn’t strictly speaking an integrated desk, but rather one that’s designed for a specific type of computer.
Its adjustable height, slots and cable carriers for the Apple Mac and Macbook range of computers and special adjustable grooves for a fish tank, make it ideally suited for the Mac of your life…
Wait, hold the phone. Did you say fish tank?!
Yup. Seems that the MILK designers figure Mac folks are all a bit fishy.
Finally we have the simply-named:
Apparently you have to call it the “dot dot dot Ex Why Zed” desk, or they won’t sell it to you. Americans with their “Zee” pronounciation are therefore, plainly speaking, shit out of luck.
The dot-dot is my favourite of all so far, and also the most recent. Clean, sleek and simple, I think it’s probably the one I’d go for if I wasn’t worried that the surface would end up looking like a scratched mess after two minutes of use. It would be nice if they made replaceable slip-covers or something along those lines for this sort of computer.
And that, with no fanfare at all, wraps up my post about desks, computers, and the curious place where they get together and couple.
Now if someone will just make one of these things in the style of ’schoolboy antique desk’, then I’ll be happy.
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