Dear George,
I don’t know
why, but technology makes me anxious.
Maybe it’s because the cutting edge devices in my youth were ballpoint
pens and 45 R.P.M. record players. I feel unconfident about mastering
unfamiliar stuff, but, beyond that, I usually get a sense of impending
doom. Whatever the case, Katja is
much more bold and adventuresome. She and our friend Donna have been
talking for a long time about buying mini-computer tablets to replace their
bulky desktop computers. Last Monday they set out to look at options at
the computer store at the mall, and I came along out of curiosity. Though
it felt like an alien land, I have to admit to being very impressed. The store was busy, and there were
probably sixty employees in brightly colored shirts out on the floor. The
wizardry of the devices was amazing.
The only gray-haired salesman in the store, Dennis, spent nearly four
hours with us, and he was patient, low-pressure, articulate, and helpful. Both Katja and Donna settled on
high-end tablets plus keyboards, and at the end of the day we returned home
with new expensive toys in hand.
Katja’s
purchase sat in its unopened box on the counter for the next 48 hours. Neither of us ever acknowledged its
existence. She had also purchased a Wi-Fi box to hook up to our cable
system. I didn’t want to open that either. Fortunately our friend Alice
(pseudonym) and her teenage son came over to help us. Doing stuff we
would never figured out ourselves, they got our Wi-Fi up and running. Then Alice gave us a short demo of some
of the wondrous things Katja’s new tablet could do.
Katja left
for her French literature class about 7 p.m. that evening, and I started trying
out her tablet, doing e-mail, Siri, and Google. Wouldn’t you know, after
ten minutes the screen froze up and then it went totally black. I pushed
every button I could find, but nothing happened. I apparently had succeeded in destroying the new foolproof
machine. I called Alice in a panic. Luckily she lives nearby, and I
walked over with the broken tablet. It took her a while, but eventually
Alice got it turned on again. She said that that shouldn’t have happened,
and, if it were to happen again, we should take the tablet back to the
store. I swore eternal gratitude
and privately told myself that I would never again go near a device that
clearly had been sent by Satan.
Walking home
on Ludlow Avenue in the dark, I called Donna on my cell phone to let her know
about the tablet’s problems. As I was chatting, my foot hit a raised
pavement on the sidewalk. With my cell phone in one hand and Katja’s
tablet in the other, I didn’t break my fall and landed smack on my rib
cage. The devices spurted off into
the dark. Lying flat on the ground I reached around and recovered the
phone and the tablet, then gradually picked myself up. I was banged up
and in a state of shock. I explained to Donna what had happened, then
hung up and slowly made my way home. Once in the house I turned the
tablet back on and was relieved that it still seemed to be working.
However, its brand new cover had gotten scratched in my fall. Katja came home. After fussing about my mishap, she
discovered the knicks on her tablet cover. She was sad but philosophical, observing mournfully that new
things possessions get some bruises.
I didn’t feel
that I was seriously injured, but, at Katja’s urging, I made an appointment at
my doctor’s office the next morning. They did some X-rays and other tests
and gave me a prescription for a painkiller. I said I was doing o.k. and wasn’t
worried. Then they called back
today. Much to my surprise, the
X-rays showed two broken ribs and impaired breathing. The caller said I can expect to be in pain for the next four
to eight weeks and need to guard against pneumonia. That’s a depressing development. I can’t help our
aging dogs get up from the hardwood floor, can’t lift them into the bed or the
car, and should avoid strenuous walking with them. Nor can I drive for a
while, work out at the gym, or go to my line dancing class. I can do some
more sedentary things, but the list of restrictions covers most of the
enjoyable parts of my life. I guess, instead of sheepdogs and line
dancing, I’ll spend my new spare time learning to use Katja’s tablet.
That would be useful so long as I don’t break any more bones in the
process.
Love,
Dave
G-mail Comments
-Donna D
(1-24): David, I feel so bad for you, but I love the way you ended on a
positive note by noting that you can use your time learning how to use the new
tablet. Maybe you can teach me what you learn! Keep healing so we can go
hiking in the spring, okay?
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