I think it will come as a surprise to no one that when it comes to technology, I struggle. Additionally, I am okay with that fact. I take great pride in the fact that I don’t use cell phones, I can barely manage a laptop and as for printers and other higher-order machines, I am at a loss. I don’t even relax watching television, because I have to figure out which of the five remotes I have, will operate what particular functions on the television.
I don’t think I should be judged too harshly for this. When I grew up, telephones were attached to the wall and they had what we call party lines. That meant that if someone else on your line was giving their telephone friend a long recipe or the neighborhood children were engaged in a hog-calling contest down the telephone, you couldn’t even get on the phone, let alone, make use of so-called “apps” of any kind.
My grandmother always told me she was born in a world where they traveled by horse and buggy and she lived to experience flying in airplanes. I had trouble relating to this until I stopped to consider that I was born into a world with a television tube in a box containing no remote and three stations (if you were lucky) and a phone attached to a cord, and I have lived long enough to operate the flat screen television with double remotes like I’m John Wayne at a shootout. In addition, I live in a world today where the phone isn’t attached to the wall anymore, it’s attached to people’s hands and it does everything for you except brush your teeth. That’s quite a leap!
I have always had scorn for those who cannot live without their technology and I admit, I’ve been pretty snotty about it. A person like me is bound to get her due humbling and that’s what happened to me this week.
My husband was deep into the NFL draft on the large living room television and I was complaining long and loud about not having anything to watch for me.
“I bought you a new television for your birthday last year, go watch it,” he answered my complaints.
“I can’t. It isn’t set up right, ever since the electricity went out last November. I can’t figure it out,” I was really peeved–my favorite shows were coming on and I was missing them!
“Use the downstairs television,” he suggested next, while simultaneously yelling at the Vikings for their latest picks.
“The downstairs TV hasn’t worked since you got mad because the one remote wasn’t working and then the other remote wouldn’t work and you ended up firing those things at it like a tenderfoot gunslinger in an arcade hall.”
Oh well, I would simply go on the internet and see what was happening. You know what happened next. The Internet was down. And nothing I could do (which wasn’t much) would bring it back. I was reduced to picking out little text messages on my phone, which didn’t like my fat fingers and kept losing signal, even when I held it up in the air, balancing on the top rung of the deck railing.
Okay, so maybe I am addicted. And it was especially bad when I finally did get the upstairs television and discovered that when your internet is out, so is Netflix. What? But I have so many series on there that are only half-watched! I must have Netflix!
With shaking fingers, I called the Internet providers and they agreed to send someone out…in two days. Two Days????!!!! I can’t wait two days for television, Netflix, Facebook! The withdrawal was real and I was chewing on all ten fingers by the time they finally got a serviceman here. He asked me a lot of technical questions and I answered all of them by saying, “I don’t know. Just fix it.” He suspiciously sniffed the glass of apple juice on ice I was drinking and then went to work.
He spent two hours changing wires, testing boxes and reworking remotes. It turns out there was a faulty cable on the kitchen television and that’s why it wouldn’t set up. He reduced the remotes to one on all televisions because he said the downstairs television was working fine, but had been so jumbled up with using the wrong remotes, it couldn’t function. The internet needed a new something that apparently had broken and we had to re-set all the computers and even the phones. As for Netflix, that worked like a charm, as soon as the Internet was up.
I have reached the sad conclusion that I am indeed a technology junkie, just like all the others, but my addiction might be worse, because I depend on someone else to keep me going with it. In addition, it is an on-going problem with no easy fix in sight. Today, I went to Roy, who was trying to take a nap and said, “Let’s play some cards or something.”
“I’m tired, let me nap,” he responded. “Go watch Netflix or something.”
“Well, that’s just it,” I whined. “Netflix isn’t working again. And I don’t which remote to use to fix it.”