Hi – my name is Linda and I’m a technophobe. There, I’ve said it. As much as I’ve always dreamed of being a geek, it is not going to happen. With each new advance, I cringe at the thought of yet another electronic task I must master. It isn’t that I don’t want to learn to use all these gadgets, I just shudder at the thought of having to plow through hundreds of pages of instructions to add something to my technological repertoire I probably won’t use long.
At the urging of a friend, I broke down and invested in an iPod. Of course, this iPod had to be a deluxe version to hold more music and videos than I would ever possibly need. There was the issue of what type of headphones or tiny earbud thingies to buy for this iPod. Crappy earbuds would not do justice to the depth and breadth of the music experience. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my hearing is so bad I couldn’t tell the difference between Bose earphones and something from Target. So, home I went with my top of the line music, video, photo, portable microwave (I wish) gadget and its accessories costing roughly as much as a small car. Then the real fun began.
I read the instructions. I read the instructions again. One more time I plodded through a booklet weighing as much as my dog. I tried the instructions in English, Spanish and French with no perception whatsoever what I was reading. Clutching my trusty laptop I went online in search of easier directions to something I felt certain any child could operate. My blood pressure was creeping toward the red zone, I had a sweat moustache, and all I wanted to do was hurl this little piece of plastic into the stratosphere.
After hours of toil, I managed to comprehend the need for the right software and the basic steps involved in actually getting the songs I wanted from a CD to this infernal gadget. I could now listen to Andrea Bocelli or Golden Oldies of the 80’s to my heart’s content. I was so proud of myself for following through and mastering this little gadget.
The problem is once you master one gadget, another comes along. And another, and another. I’m exhausted worrying over new electronic wonders looming on the horizon. When my devoted spouse’s copy of PC magazine arrives, I run to another room clutching the closest available form of chocolate for fear he may introduce another piece of wizardry into my already full technological menagerie. I heard him muttering about something called a DVR the other day, and my sweat moustache returned with a vengeance.
There is a new store in our area, IKEA. I’m planning a visit soon. Furniture is a language I speak fluently and a technology I can understand. And I won’t be taking my iPod.