Old Dogs, New Tricks

My learning curve for technology is steep, perhaps more steep than Mt. Everest. 

 

One day, my generation—who grew up on snail mail, the typewriter, and social telegram to name a few—woke up to a sea of gadgetry that challenged and upset our equilibrium.

What took my then 12-year-old son to learn in minutes took me a year or more. Before I could blink, more new-fangled contraptions rushed in and continue to deluge my already jumbled brain. What can an old dog do?

Learn new tricks, even way past the learning phase. Meaning, slog on, ask the same questions over and over again from any young tech savvy, who’d rather do it (with a scowl) than show you.

“Have an FB page apart from your personal page, Mom,” suggested son #1. “There you can freely talk about books without alienating any of your friends who do not read.”

It was a brilliant idea. But how was I going to do it?

“Read the instructions,” he said, instead of volunteering to do it for me.

Yeah, for one who loves reading, reading instructions should be a cinch. Naah.

So during the Christmas break, every waking hour, I fiddled with icons on my computer. This was in cadence with a dull ache in my head that came and went with every mouse movement and keyboard click.

After two weeks, just two days before Christmas, voila!

“Try Instagram, Mom,” my daughter-in-law prodded me. Naah.

“Do Twitter,” suggested son #2. Naah.

“Download the app that I use for . . .” my student chirped. Naah.

One trick at a time.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16 NKJV)