My new computer, or the modern Luddite
As I write, I am listening to Elvis songs that I had imported from a CD onto iTunes. Like any gadget, I am deeply in love and devoted to my new toy (iMac with 17" flat screen, lovely). However, the more I use it, the more I realise that I know NOTHING about it. What do they say? 'A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing.'
Yesterday, the Boy and I were on Princes Street, shopping. We decided that after two years here, we would succumb to the national obsession and own a mobile phone. I really don't want to have one cos I don't have enough friends to warrant such a thing. However, I live with a man whose can't ever make a plan, as if deciding what time to meet for a film would kill him. Too many times to mention have I been caught at home (or out) and not sure where he was. It seems to make sense, but I don't like it. Nevertheless, since I'm going through such a thing, I was determined to make a good decision about it and get the best deal possible. Thus, the shopping.
The dude at Carphone Warehouse was hilarious. While everyone nodded sagely to my tale ('I don't own a phone and never have and am looking for my first one.'), he did a double take. It was all Laurel and Hardy, as in "Eh? What's this?" Even the people standing next to me were shocked. Matth and I are indeed a rare breed.
The shopping was what brought out the "importing of songs onto iTunes." All the phones have mp3 players (as well as phones and video players, and some that show TV shows and music videos), so I needed some thing to listen to. So as I was importing songs from my personal CDs, the process stopped. After trying everything in my limited repertoire of repair (curse and hit the machine, pray, etc.), I forced it to quit by turning off the power at the outlet (which is something you can do over here, as there is a small switch by the outlet). How was I to know that was something life altering?
The internet would not open. No web pages, emails, nothing. Matth spent the next two hours cursing, hitting the machine and pushing various buttons (ah, one step more sophisticated in the repertoire of repair skills) as I pretended I didn't do anything wrong. An hour long phone call to the Madasafish technical support people did not help (At the end of the call: "Uh, I'll have my manager call you.") and Matth was forced to spend more time on the computer.
Obviously, you can see he solved the problem. And how exactly did he do it? No idea, he says, just tried this and that. Scary. We paid good money for this thing and we have no flippin' idea how it works. Now we'll be getting mobile phones. And I have this blog in which I am supposed to be sharing my life with you. You notice no pictures, despite Christmas in Rome and Yorkshire. Hmm... this should be good. Hopefully I shall learn how to enhance this before your very eyes. Watch this space.
Yesterday, the Boy and I were on Princes Street, shopping. We decided that after two years here, we would succumb to the national obsession and own a mobile phone. I really don't want to have one cos I don't have enough friends to warrant such a thing. However, I live with a man whose can't ever make a plan, as if deciding what time to meet for a film would kill him. Too many times to mention have I been caught at home (or out) and not sure where he was. It seems to make sense, but I don't like it. Nevertheless, since I'm going through such a thing, I was determined to make a good decision about it and get the best deal possible. Thus, the shopping.
The dude at Carphone Warehouse was hilarious. While everyone nodded sagely to my tale ('I don't own a phone and never have and am looking for my first one.'), he did a double take. It was all Laurel and Hardy, as in "Eh? What's this?" Even the people standing next to me were shocked. Matth and I are indeed a rare breed.
The shopping was what brought out the "importing of songs onto iTunes." All the phones have mp3 players (as well as phones and video players, and some that show TV shows and music videos), so I needed some thing to listen to. So as I was importing songs from my personal CDs, the process stopped. After trying everything in my limited repertoire of repair (curse and hit the machine, pray, etc.), I forced it to quit by turning off the power at the outlet (which is something you can do over here, as there is a small switch by the outlet). How was I to know that was something life altering?
The internet would not open. No web pages, emails, nothing. Matth spent the next two hours cursing, hitting the machine and pushing various buttons (ah, one step more sophisticated in the repertoire of repair skills) as I pretended I didn't do anything wrong. An hour long phone call to the Madasafish technical support people did not help (At the end of the call: "Uh, I'll have my manager call you.") and Matth was forced to spend more time on the computer.
Obviously, you can see he solved the problem. And how exactly did he do it? No idea, he says, just tried this and that. Scary. We paid good money for this thing and we have no flippin' idea how it works. Now we'll be getting mobile phones. And I have this blog in which I am supposed to be sharing my life with you. You notice no pictures, despite Christmas in Rome and Yorkshire. Hmm... this should be good. Hopefully I shall learn how to enhance this before your very eyes. Watch this space.
posted by Autumn at 4.1.06
3 Comments:
Um, ok. You're paying? ;)
BTW, thanks for reading. Miss y'all too.
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Dont do it!! There are only so many of us left. Cell phones are just tracking devises in disgiuse. They'll find you, THEY'LL FIND YOU!!!!!!!
Too late fool. I have been tagged and will be tracked like the animal that I am.
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