Technophobe Hell

I have been debased by a Dell. My computer laughs at me, as do graphing calculators, stereo/video equipment and my husband and children, when they see me trying in vain to use any of the above. I push buttons intended to make these machines do my bidding, and they say, “Yeah…right. Whatever,” and then do what they want to do. Such is the existence of a technophobe in an advanced society.

I was okay with the electric typewriter. As long as I was equipped with a lot of white-out, I could cover my typos and get on with my life. But now we use computers with word processing software, and that software thinks it knows more than I do what I want on the paper. When I casually mention that perhaps, since I have a degree in English, I might know something about writing and thus it should do as I say, it rolls its eyes at me and does what it wants. It is possessed of things called ‘templates’ that are supposed to make my life easier, but instead make it a living hell. I will call my computer Lucifer.

If I want to type a numbered list, I can go to the taskbar and hit the numbered list thingy, and Lucifer will miraculously format my numbers for me. It can be a beautiful thing, as long as I don’t try to dictate how I want those numbers formatted. If I have the audacity to attempt to put more than one paragraph under a single number, God help me. Once I hit return, Lucifer obediently labels my new paragraph with the next succeeding number. “But I want that paragraph on number two,” I protest, and Lucifer smirks.

In an attempt to seem complacent, I make the two paragraphs one, then type what I want for number three, thinking I can then go back and separate the paragraphs under number two. This does not fool Lucifer, who proceeds to change the numbering so that the new paragraph is number three and my number three point is once again number four. “I only want three points,” I snarl. Lucifer dares me to try to change it. I will not be outdone by a pile of silicone, plastic and wires, however. Did I mention that I’m a bit naïve when it comes to computers?

I hit the number thingy on the taskbar again to remove the numbers, and I try to number my points manually. I type “1.” on the first point and Lucifer numbers every following paragraph. By this time, having somewhat of a temper, I’m fuming and typing so hard that the table is shaking and my napping cat glares at me. I delete what I have written and try to type it again, manually numbering from the beginning. I finish the first point and hit return, and successive numbers magically appear on each paragraph.

At this point, I call my husband, who is an A+ certified computer techie. He has, by the way, been trying for years to convince me that WordPerfect is better than Word and I’m sure it is, if you’re an A+ certified computer techie who knows how to command a computer in DOS. I tell him that Word is easier to use, at which he throws back his head and laughs, because if it was so easy, why would I be calling him to help me? “Besides,” I reason, “I need to use Word in school because that is what the schools use and it must be compatible.” I have him there. So now I have my techie husband typing on my computer, muttering under his breath that this would be easy in WordPerfect, and I swear I hear Lucifer give a maniacal laugh.

Lucifer also controls my blog. When I wrote my first entry, I forced…um, I mean asked…my husband to become a fan, and then asked my friends to read it. Mary, one of my three BFFs and a veteran blogger, read it and posted a comment, and I was so grateful that I wanted to post a thank you, but I couldn’t figure out how to post a comment on my own blog. Lucifer is probably laughing so hard he’s peeing his pants.