New Technology

 New Technology Gremlins Can Hide Anywhere

During my engineering career at General Motors, I dealt with new technology all the time. Working with latest available developments and assisting with new part designs were a routine part of my job. Further, I was never reluctant to take on new assignments and I learned them about as quickly as any other Tom, Dick or Harry during my 37-year engineering career. You can see that I am not afraid of new technology since I spent most of my career dealing with it.

When cell phones became fashionable for an aging, but cultivated soul like me, I delayed buying one because I didn’t think I would use it. I thought there were few people who would want to call me and even fewer that I want to call while I was away from my telephone at home. It never occurred to me that I should make a phone call or answer one while mowing the lawn, riding a bicycle, watching a movie, standing in line, or doing any of the other thousand things that people do while talking on their cell phones. I suppose it would come as a complete surprise to some of the younger generation, but never once have I had the urge to call someone or answer a call while sitting on a toilet in a public restroom.

Meantime, my wife, children, and friends all became addicted to their mobile phones. On the rare occasion that I needed to communicate with someone while away from home, it was easy for me to hint as much and some obliging soul would invariably make a call for me. There the matter rested for several years, as I became outdated while others adopted the new technology and began talking at a moment’s notice without my limitation of needing wires for communications.

 This past Christmas I decided to become a part of this century by purchasing a cell phone for myself. Not just a cell phone, however. I bought a smart phone after telling myself that smart phones were another matter altogether since they provided so many capabilities beyond making telephone calls. I purchased my new phone in December and began the process of learning its basic operations. Now, some four months later, I’m still learning how to operate the danged thing. At the rate I’m going, it will be 2022 before I master it, if then.

Last week, for example, while I was raking leaves I received an unexpected phone call from a square dance friend. I managed to answer the call as I laid down the rake to avoid distracted raking. “Hello,” I said. The caller said she was returning my call and asked what the emergency was since I had called her three times that morning in quick succession. What? I hadn’t called her at all, but the dumb phone in my pocket had seen fit to dial her for some reason. The two of us finally decided that since her name, Alberta, was first on my phone list and since my phone didn’t enjoy being bounced around in my pocket, it decided to call her of its own volition. I talked to the lady in person some days later and she told me that the following day she received another call from me that she wisely ignored. My home phone would never do such a thing, but of course, my home phone doesn’t take selfies, either.

The phantom phone call is but one example of hundreds of miscues that I have made while trying to learn basic smart phone 101. It hasn’t been easy. For instance, I spent dozens of hours over several weeks trying to copy and then load music to my phone so that I could boogie during my morning walk. I had to learn about ripping, downloading, MP3 transfers and other things to convince the midget computer hiding in my cell phone to play my music. Of course, the glowing rectangle came with no instructions that were the least helpful. Apparently, makers of smart phones think younger people are able to sense the mystical steps needed to accomplish a simple task. I have a message for them -- some of us have lost our sensing capabilities when it comes to electronics with icons that make no sense at all.

After numerous difficulties in using my gadget, I think the problem is more than a lack of instructions and unexpected phone responses to my best efforts. Instead, I have come to believe my smart phone has a mischievous gremlin hidden within, one that is diabolically unwilling to bend to my commands. Either that, or there is the remote possibility that my smart phone is smarter than I am.

Last week I bought a new car, another Chevrolet Impala, just like my old one. As a faithful GM retiree, I didn’t bother to shop for a new car, I just stopped at the dealership and made a deal with the salesman while Marjorie chose the options and colors. There was no need for investigation or study of any sort because of my car background and the several Impalas that I have previously owned. ‘It will be a piece of cake', I thought. That was before I climbed behind the wheel and a computer touch screen flashed on in the center of the instrument panel. I opened the owner’s manual and looked for a section on computer screens in cars. Sure enough, there were several pages all about it. The section began with the precaution about avoiding distracted driving.

“Then why did you put a computer screen in my car?” I asked aloud.

When I tuned the ignition on, the screen came to life and several icons that seemed vaguely familiar began flashing. And then I knew: Smart phone technology had invaded my new car and was demanding my attention. Oh noooo! Arrrrrrgh!!!