Has this happened to you yet? Someone sent this to me in an email. I suspect it was one of my electronically savvy children.
ELECTRONICALLY CHALLENGED SENIORS
Things are spiraling out of control. I think I have become lost in a world of electronic madness.
One of my sons informed me this week that my cell phone had become obsolete and I must head down to the cell phone
store and get a phone that is contemporary with the time.
I pointed out that the fancy Razor phone (with the built-in camera that he made me trade my perfectly good flip-top Motorola cell phone for two years ago) still works perfectly fine.
Well, except for the camera thing. Never could figure that out. Even the few times I actually did take pictures, I
couldn't figure what to do with them and gave up. That is except when I would push the wrong button and take a video
of the ceiling or my feet.
He thinks I need "unlimited texting" on my phone plan now. Seems my issue with texting is that I am unable to
text with the tiny little 3 character buttons.
"Hi son!" would come out looking like "Gh Qmo!"
My grandkids have even spoken to my wife about Poppas crazy text messages. Give me a break. Whatever happened
to actually talking on a phone? Isn't that what they were invented for?
They want me to get one of those phones that you can turn upside down and sideways and has a typewriter keyboard with
keys about one-eighth the size of my pinky finger.
One of my four sons is a realtor whose real occupation is fly fishing.
One time we were floating the Yakima River in his guide-quality drift boat south of Ellensburg, Washington. We
were miles from anything remotely resembling civilization. Rock canyon walls were on either side of us.
Bear with me as I try to explain this strange thing.
His "Blackberry" rang. It was blue and I asked him why it wasn't called a Blueberry. He shook his head with that
"dealing with an elder" despair look I get a lot these days. It was another realtor who called to say that the
sellers he represented had agreed to my sonÂs clientÂs changes and he had the signed documents in hand.
My son told him to FAX the papers to his office and he would get them signed and Faxed back,20 to close the deal
that morning. A minute later the phone rang and he hit a few buttons and looked over the FAX.
He then called his clients and told them he was Faxing the papers to them to sign and asked them to FAX them back to
his office. While he was waiting, he hooked into a fat rainbow and was just releasing this 22- inch beauty as his
phone rang again with the signed FAX from his clients.
He called the other realtor and told him he was sending the signed papers back by FAX. The deal was closed, but my
mouth was open. He smiled and just said, "You are a little behind the times, Dad."
I guess I am. "Way to go, son." - or in my text language - "Xbz um Io, rmo."
I thought about the construction business I ran with 50 employees, all without a Blackberry th at played music,
took videos and pictures, and communicated with Facebook and Twitter.
I signed up under duress for Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grandkids and 2 great-
grandkids could communicate with me in the modern way.
I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space. That was before one of
my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix
and something that sends every message to my
cell phone and every other program within the texting world.
My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of everything except the bowel movements of the entire next
generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell phone in the garage in my golf bag.
The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get lost every now and then going over to the grocery
store or library.
I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside was the most annoying, rude person I had
run into in a long time. Every 10 minutes, she would sarcastically say, "Re-calc-ul-ating." You would think
that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light.
Now, when I get really lost, I call my wife and tell her the name of the cross streets. She can usually give me
directions, but I've noticed she is starting to develop the same tone as 'Gypsy,' the GPS lady. At least she loves me!
I keep the GPS in a box under my tool bench with the
Bluetooth (itÂs red) phone I am supposed to use when I drive.
I wore the Bluetooth once and was standing in line at Barnes and Nobles talking to my wife as everyone in the
nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. Seems I have to take
my hearing aid out to use it or I get a little loud.
To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for
4 years, but I still haven't figured out how I can lose three phones all at once. When the phone rings, I have to
run around digging under chair cushions, dirty laundry, old newspapers, etc. trying to find a phone to answer.
The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would
think they could set tle on something themselves but this sudden "Paper or Plastic?" every time I check out just
knocks me for a loop. I bought some of those cloth re-usable bags to avoid looking confused but never remember to take them in with me. When I do, they fill them so full
I can't carry them!
Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, "Paper or
Plastic?" I just say, "DoesnÂt matter to me. I am
bi-sacksual."
Then it's their turn to stare at me with a blank look.
___________________________________________________________
I still have my flip phone, never have taken a picture with
it. My GPS lady's name is Geraldine and most of the time now
she remains silent when I take a wrong turn. I guess she
has figured out that I do know how to make a U turn.
mwoods
pamven
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