Monday, May 11, 2009

I Knew It Was Coming....

...when the screen on Preston's phone ceased to display anything other than the black screen of death; a trip to the Verizon store. He tried to spare me by looking for online tech support, bless his heart, but to no avail. Much like death and taxes, it was unavoidable.

I hate going to the Verizon store. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I would seriously rather go to the dentist. I consider myself an intelligent person, but at the Verizon store I feel...outmaneuvered. I don't understand the pricing plans, no matter HOW many times the salespeople explain them to me, I don't understand when or why I might or might not qualify for a new phone-or an "upgrade", I believe the term is, because you can't just get the same phone you got last time now that you've grown used to it-and I don't understand the phones themselves. The last time we got new phones, Preston laughed at me for getting the "welfare phone". It was absolutely the cheapest phone I could find. But I didn't really get it just because it was cheap (and I might add that my welfare phone was still working just fine when his phone gave up the ghost), I got it because it had the fewest number of extraneous functions. Look, I don't text. I don't have the time or inclination (or the eyesight) to play games on my phone, or surf the internet, or download music, or any of that. I just wanted a phone that makes and receives calls. That was cause for some amusement at the Verizon store. I didn't even want one that took pictures, but such a thing was not available. So imagine my angst at now having a phone that not only does things that I don't need it to do, but it opens up and inside are even more things I'll most likely never's got a full keyboard, because apparently it's meant for texting. And it takes pictures, plays music, etc. etc. etc. And this, believe it or not, was the current "welfare phone". It was the cheapest thing there was. The salesman was trying to impress me with the texting thing, and I told him, I don't do that, don't know how, not interested. He laughed and looked at me like he felt sorry for me, which I actually found pretty offensive but not wanting to cause a scene, I didn't say so.

So here's the thing I've come to realize about me...I am quite technologically impaired. And as I've said, I'm an intelligent person, so I blame it on simple hardheaded stubbornness. I probably have ADD, for real, because the thought of sitting still and focusing on this stuff long enough to learn it just makes my eyes cross and my brain wants to go to its happy place. I can't work the VCR and all that other stuff that's all hooked up to each other via the spaghetti pile in back of the TV (and I'm only 45 so it's not old age). And the remotes to all that stuff? Forget it. My guitar amp has way too many knobs and switches, and my guitar is not far behind. I don't see the whole point of texting when you have a phone and can just speak to each other. I refuse to Twitter. My microwave has functions that I've never used, ditto my phone, my car, my MP3 player, my clothes dryer, my camera, and of course, my computer. My husband, of course, is the complete opposite of that. He's a total technophile. If it's new and improved, he wants to know about it. And he sucks up all that information like a sponge, and retains it all for future use. I think if I didn't have him to program stuff for me (and put music on my MP3 player, cause I don't know how) I'd probably descend into the dark ages.