Technology escapes me. I’m quite sure I was put on this earth with the expected number of gigabytes in my brain and that, through the years, I’ve gathered enough info to make the whole system workable. However, I do find that faced with clicky boxes, blank screens and techno things which should work and absolutely won’t, the brain completely sags, cerebration shuts down, RAM fails. My neurones won’t neur.
Work I can deal with. Give me a pile of problems, things that don’t add up, difficult decisions and apparent dead ends and I’m in my element. At home the same. Problem solving R me. Yet, faced with technology that won’t do what it’s supposed to, I find myself cursing and making death threats to an inanimate object. Like it cares.
My one redeeming feature is that I show no bias at all in my dislike; technology in all its forms is beyond me. I discovered about a week ago how to close the small back windows in a car I’ve owned for 8 years. In fairness, we wouldn’t normally open them in England, keeping them closed so ferrets, rabbits or hobbits can’t get in. In France and at 36°C it was different. Kids get very vocal if overheated. Small space, irritated offspring; best avoided. The little windows stayed open for six days til I figured the closing mechanism out (Yup, only one button.) Kids cool though.
The television/dvd player is equally a complete mystery. In the days of an on button and four channels: no problem. 4442 options leaves me calling for the kids to make it be on.
Doubtless much of this is Freudian, as I have no real desire to know how to fix my own computer/printer/reprogram TVs. This is backed up by the fact that the photocopier regularly has a fugue and won’t work. But I need it. I now have an intimate knowledge of its inner recesses and can fix most of its glitches. Sigmund would have been proud of the conveniently patchy nature of my mind fog.
Techno terminology doesn’t help. I accept that every specialised area needs its own vocabulary but to me mouse over seems like the death of a rodent and gigabyte more like a snack at a concert. I’ve tried to tune in to the computer boffins fixing something, but once they’ve gone past the words “Let’s have a go at..” it appears that they are speaking Mandarin, perhaps insulting my grandmother or maybe offering me a recipe for duck and noodle cake.
Yet the more I feel that I really should do something about it, the greater my complacency becomes, like accelerated apathy. But do I really care?
I was cheered up by a text which I received yesterday from my husband on whom I rely for much of the technical input in the house. It read:
Noé on the stadium. Semés To havé Home. Intolérant spamish. À
Victim of Spanish keyboard/predictive text combi. I’m not alone.
Perhaps my brain need defragging. However, I am concerned that if all the junk was removed, there would be very little serious stuff remaining to hold everything in some sort of order. Although it could be fun to switch with somebody else’s brain to see what the inside of their head looks like and how their processing works. I’m convinced that there’d be huge market on eBay for a cerebral swap.
Brain for sale. One careful owner. In good shape for its age but needs a bit of reprogramming. Can stall and shut down completely. Bit grey; does it matter?