High tech hysteria
Long ago I gave up having the latest gadget. Besides the simple economics of not being able to afford the newest device, I discovered my aging brain could no longer comprehend how to work the darn thing.
I believe my Technology Challenged Syndrome began with the invention of the VCR. When watching a movie involves the AUX function, three remote controls and enough curse words to get my mouth washed out with soap, I give up.
The disease is progressive. I think the iPhone might have finally driven me over the edge. TCS is now in control. I pray every night some helpful drug company will develop a pill that not only makes a couple more loving, it makes them wizards with electronics.
Since Stroke of Genius landed at the Dancing Dog Ranch, he took immediate notice of my shiny new camera. I purchased the 21st century's souped up version of the classic Nikon. It took a week of studying the manual just to take my first photo. It's a great camera that produces wonderful photos as long as all I have to do is point and click.
One day Stroke of Genius started asking technical questions like about the camera, "Does this thing have a timer?" The only answer I could stammer was, "I don't know but I think the microwave does."
SOG shook his head and explained he wanted to take a picture of us together and the camera timer would do the trick. My Technology Challenged Syndrome kicked in and all I could do was mumble, "Here" and hand him the camera. I sulked inside to fix dinner. At least I still know my way around a stove.
While I cooked, I watched him outside on the porch. He grabbed the tripod - see, I told you I bought the latest, fanciest camera with all the attachments - and spent 10 minutes figuring out how to attach the two without breaking either one.
I was duly impressed.
Then he positioned the camera just right so he could hit the button, run over to the porch, smile and wait for the click. All I could think was, "Great. Not only do I have to understand electronics, now I have to move fast to pose for a picture. Hope I don't break a hip."
Stroke of Genius was much more excited than I over his new-found control of the latest electronic device. He marched inside and announced, "Go put on something cute, fix your hair and suck in your gut. We're about to have our first photo shoot." So much for being a natural beauty.
I complied with his request and returned as glamed-up as a gal could be on a steamy Texas summer evening. I told him to make it quick before my makeup started running.
SOG showed me where to sit and how to pose. I was beginning to feel like Oprah working on another cover of O magazine. About this time, he hit a series of buttons and dashed to my side demanding that I smile immediately. Three clicks later, he headed back to the camera.
Seems instead of taking the perfect shot, SOG had taken three shots, only one of which we were prepared for.
Sure, there was a great shot in the results but there are many more of blurry Technology Challenged Syndrome aging adults.
At least we had some cheap fun entertainment. Now if only somebody could figure out how to get these Annie Leibovitz shots printed. Just thinking about the next hurdle to jump makes me shudder.