Computer Hell

I’m sorry but every new software application should come with someone who was born after 1980 to help you understand it. My eyes are bleary, I have a crick in my neck, my stomach is in a knot and my fingers hurt. But I did manage to put a fan page on Facebook. If you’re laughing in recognition then you too were probably born before anyone thought of these things: computers.

If you are reading this, perhaps you’ve seen the fan page. If you’ve seen it then please, do me a favor and go directly to http://straykats.blogspot.com because I don’t think I will remember to update the fan page very often. Sure, it’s okay now that I have nothing better to do with my life than to write the blog, post the link on Twitter, post the link on Facebook , go to the fan page, post the link there, go to the oldest post, delete that because on my very first day (today!) I exhausted the allotted space, crashed the site, had to exit, reboot, reload and delete over half of what I put on there in the first place because it was so slow that turtles have a better chance of getting back to the sea than you had of opening the page! But someday, I would like to have something better to do and all this will seem... burdensome.

I know my mother is looking at this and saying “What the hell is she talking about” and I really get that! It’s a new world. My dad and mom were 25 years apart in age; a true May-December romance. Years ago, my dad insisted my mom learn how to use a computer. He refused to touch it himself. The man who read vociferously, even using a magnifying glass when he was almost totally blind; who did the NY Times crossword puzzle every day of his life without ever having to cheat; this man just didn’t want to be bothered. And I get that too! This is exhausting! Just when you start to feel comfortable at your keyboard they “update”. Update! Upgrade! Up yours! It’s the revenge of the nerds! “Oh yeah? Well figure THIS out!”

I want to thank my cousin Blake who suggested I beef up the fan page and then told me how. It would have saved me some time if he’d mentioned that there were limits but perhaps, at his age, limits aren’t worth mentioning. Juuuuust wait! Somewhere there’s a three year old who’s cooking up something that will leave him dazed and confused. By then, I won’t even want to be bothered.