Perils of a 20th Century Gal in a Techno World

by Connie Wolf My husband, the gadget guru, says I’m technologically challenged, well “Duh!” Even he, the die-hard fan of bells and whistles, admits that perhaps, in some situations, modern technology has gone too far. Yesterday we ventured out into a brave new world; we went shopping for a new laptop computer. We decided to visit South Coast Plaza because amid the Rolex, Gucci, and Versace there is a Sony store and an Apple store where Jon could get all his questions answered by the experts, all of which were young enough to be our grandchildren.

Have you been in that mall lately? The place is enormous! We took careful note of where we left the car and ventured in. Unable to find a store directory, we wandered in wide eyed wonder until we found a uniformed security guard who pointed us in the right direction. Jon entered the Sony store with a glowing rapt expression on his face; I left him giddily pushing buttons with a sales rep at his side. I was off in search of a restroom. I found the sign pointing the way and following the long hall until I came to the door marked, “Women” and stopped short when I read the sign that said, “Wave at the door to open”. I looked over my right shoulder and then my left, no one around. I looked up to see if there was any sign of a hidden camera. Just as I was trying to decide if a one-handed or two-handed wave was in order, and whether it should be a horizontal or a vertical wave, I was saved from my indecision by someone exiting the restroom. I slipped in as they slipped out, problem solved.

What do you think of these modern, all electronic restrooms? Personally, I’m convinced they were invented by evil mad scientists who are determined to confound and embarrass me. I prefer to flush my own toilet, thank you. The bottom line is I am not going to walk out of that stall until it’s flushed. This usually involves waving my hands around in front of the sensor or even sometimes pressing my body to the side of the booth trying to trick the mechanism into thinking I’m gone, whatever it takes, I am there for the duration. When that mission is finally accomplished I still have the daunting task of washing my hands before me. This entails a lot more hand waving to get the auto sensor to spit a little water on me. As I’m madly waving my arms around the person next to me simply walks up to the faucet, holds her hands under a spigot that releases a nice steady stream. What is that about? My faucet turns off while my hands are still full of soap causing me to wave again, spattering soap on the mirror, counter and the front of my blouse. Giving up, I decide to just wipe my hands on a paper towel and then wipe up my mess and get out of there. This is going to take a bit more than the tiny square of paper dispensed by the automatic towel machine so a line forms behind me as I wave my hands again and again in front of yet another demonic sensor.

Finally, I return to the computer store where Jon still stands with the sales rep. He no longer looks so joyful, his eyes are glazed over and a frown has formed between them. He turns to me and says, “There is so much to consider, the screen resolution, the speed, the storage capacity, the video card, the CD ROM, the battery life. What do you think?” he asks. “I like the blue one” I say “It matches your eyes”.

Don’t Get Me Started

By Connie Wolf My last column was a rant about my aversion to high tech restrooms. Motion sensors for toilets, sinks and towel dispensers make me crazy. It doesn’t stop there; don’t get me started on the subject of my new cell phone.

Please understand I appreciate the cell phone. It gives me a great sense of security to know I can call home, the automobile club, or in the worse case scenario, dial 911 whenever or wherever I may need it. In the twenty first century we don’t need to look for a phone booth, fumble with change or even venture out of our car to get help. This is a good thing and for this I am thankful. The problem is my shiny new metallic, glow-in-the dark cell phone befuddles me.

My children send me pictures on my phone with cryptic text messages. I don’t know how to save the pictures or answer the messages; I’d much rather they would just drop by for a visit. My inability to master this device is not from lack of effort, I once sent a two line text message to my daughter or at least I thought I did. I played hunt and peck on the teeny tiny keyboard for twenty minutes then pushed an itty-bitty button and poof it disappeared. Apparently it was the wrong itty-bitty button; I asked her if she ever got it, she didn’t. It’s just gone. Is it now drifting in cyberspace or hidden in my phone? Who knows, certainly not me.

I once tried taking a picture with my phone; my husband tells me that I have the latest in electronic flash equipment right there in my cell phone so I tried it. Unfortunately, I was holding it backwards (who knew?) and I took a flash photo of my eye. It was frightening, both the picture and the effect on my eye. I won’t be doing that again!

Jon even bought me a blue tooth for the phone assuring me that I could now drive and talk hands free. I’d be safe and legal. Isn’t that technology at its finest? I wore it while running some errands on the day he brought it home. The tiny wireless contraption fell out of my ear; I never even missed it. It could have happened in the grocery store or in the parking lot or maybe at the gas station, I never even talked on the thing, not once, it happened that fast. “Surely you felt it fall out”, queried my husband in obvious exasperation. “No” I answered “and don’t even think about buying me another one”.

The cell phone is not the only example of the electronic confusion that terrorizes my home. We have a DVR/cable TV remote control that looks like it could be a control panel for NASA, I think if I push the right combination of buttons, I could bring space lab home. In our closet there is a shelf with an electrical outlet and a power strip. This is where we recharge all of our technological wonders. There is a charging cord for the digital camera, two cell phones, two MP3 players, an IPod and Jon’s e-reader. I have no clue as to which cord goes to which device or what hole, slot, or port you plug it into. When I look at that shelf, I am so tempted to just clear it all off and store my shoes and purses there. Of course, in the name of marital harmony, I wouldn’t really consider it. Not seriously. Our electronic docking station is here to stay.

Stewart Brand, the editor of the Whole Earth Catalog said it best, “Once a new technology rolls over you, if you're not part of the steamroller, you're part of the road.” I guess we know what part I am.

When I was nine

I was introduced to death when I was just a boy by my two year old neighbor, Timmy. Timmy was a strapping tow head toddler with lots of curiosity. I am sure Timmy never intended for me to see death at the age of nine. I can still remember Timmy running around his back yard, his blue eyes sparkling in the sun. He would laugh and giggle with his dad in chase, pretending not to catch him and then grabbing him up with a big tickle and a rub on his chubby belly with whiskered chin. No daddy, no Timmy would giggle and then ask for more.

Then one hot summer day when Timmy's dad was away Timmy could not be found. We all looked and yelled and checked all the neighbor's yards and houses. Have you seen Timmy? Timmy's missing everyone would say and another neighbor helped to look that day. Timmy's dad came home and the police were called and they all searched all over again.

Timmy's dad was scared and Timmy's mom was frantic and then someone, I can't remember who, found little Timmy Roebuck floating in the irrigation ditch behind my home. I was there when they pulled him out all wet and blue. The ambulance came and they tried to make him breathe and then my mom was crying and said. "Timmy is dead". I didn't understand death and I wasn't sure what it meant but I cried too. Timmy's gone to live with God they said.

They put Timmy's tiny body in a tiny casket in the house next to mine. My mom asked me if I wanted to say goodbye to Timmy and I was afraid to say no. We walked next door hand in hand. Timmy's dad was stern and Timmy's mom was crying.

My mom walked across the room to say goodbye but I was afraid to follow because I did not know what I would see. My mom said, "Come on and say goodbye" and Timmy's dad said, "Yes please, Timmy would like that."

I edged across the hard wood floor and I shut my eyes and did not want to look but my mom said, "Open your eyes and say goodbye, it will be alright." I opened my eyes and looked at Timmy. He lay quiet and looked peaceful and looked alright. I did not know what to say so I stared at him and then reached to feel his hair. It was blond and soft and felt alright so I put my hand on his chubby cheek to feel his skin. But Timmy's cheek wasn't soft and warm and didn't feel alright. It was cold and hard and felt like stone. Timmy startled my fingers and etched my mind when he introduced me to the stone cold feel of death when I was only nine.

I wrote and I am not afraid

I wrote

and I heard truth

Truth

had always been there.

Truth

is always there.

Why didn’t I

see truth before?

Why couldn’t I

hear truth before?

Truth had nudged

me for decades.

I just nudged

truth back.

Truth would not go away.

Truth haunted me.

I knew not

 what truth was.

truth was in a place

I cared not look.

truth was in a place

I dared not look.

I never thought

to look for truth

through my pen,

through my grit

through my grime.

I never dared

to look for truth

through my pen 

through my grit

through my grime

Not until

I wrote and I wrote and I wrote

about

the things that are

about

the things that aren’t

about

the things that may

about

the things that might

that

truth was heard.

Truth

spoke to me

with words

from a raining cloud.

Truth

spoke to me

withwords

from the sizzling lightning

burning

across the sky

blazing

a path

that I was

afraid to walk.

The words

dripping blood and ink

awakened

my mind,

awakened 

my eyes,

awakened

my heart

awakened

my soul

truth

spoke to me

and now

I have the strength

to walk the path

of  the sizzling lightning.

I am not afraid

of falling any more.

lost in the words

I drift across my words
wondering where you are

I look behind a phrase

hopeing to find you there

a sentence about romance

opens to find you gone

I stare through verbs and nouns

and you dance before my mind

but yet a paragraph from my hand

seems not to touch your heart

maybe if I write a book
you will spend a moment with me                                                  
                                                                           gsbatty

Mother and Daughter

Lunch on Wednesday
Face to face
Toe to toe
You judge me
I judge you.
I’m waiting for you
Scanning the parking lot for your car
Not your fault
I’m always early, you are hardly ever late.
Time to think
Time to wonder
Will I say too much?
Always, I always say too much.
Will I say anything that will offend?
I always do.
It’s never intentional
But never-the-less,
My words are a cause for offense.
You will take each statement
Twisting and turning
Until you find the pin prick of transgression.
“I knew it”, “I knew it” you’ll say.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant”
Too late, the words are out there
You find what you seek.
We play out our acrimonious history
Your mind tweaking the dialog
Forcing the words to fit within the frame
The frame you’ve built for me.
And all the time
It is you that judges me.
As we walk out together
We pause on the sidewalk.
We fumble through an awkward embrace.
“Same time next week?” you ask.
“Looking forward to it” I say and I walk away.

First Moment

This is a poem I wrote in class on Tuesday. Amy said I was very dismissive of my work so I took it home. Read it over. Corrected the spelling. Typed it up and decided to post it here. If I'm going to be dismissed it's not going to be by me!
First Moment
The first moment I was aware of you
Was a Surprise and an affront
“Liar” you said and my head whipped around.
The first moment I saw you
I fell into your eyes
Large liquid brown eyes
That belied your taunting voice
That hinted of a vulnerability
Your mocking crooked grin couldn’t hide.

My dance partner was ignored as I bantered back,
“Am Not” I retorted.
“Are too” you answered.
You danced your partner even closer.
I was wearing a carefully ironed yellow cotton sundress
You wore stained and worn knee length shorts and
A tee shirt that may have once been white.
I wore white sandals carefully polished
Your feet were bare.
I was embarrassed and my flushed cheeks
Told the tale
You were brash with darting eyes and
Rapid fire retorts.

young and shy

I wrote this poem in my journaling class and was not happy with it.  I have rewritten it and tried to improve it but I think it still needs more work.  Following this poem I am going to attempt to write a poem on the real prompt.

Write a "first moment" poem

It was a time when I was young

It was a time when I was shy

I looked at her

but let her pass me by

It was a time when our voices were strong

It was a time of glorious song

I sang with her

but let her pass me by

it was a time when the music was right

It was a time we could dance all night

I danced with her

but let her pass me by

It was a time I looked for her and she was not there

It was I time I ask her why

I wanted her badly

but let her pass me by

It was a time she did not come

It was a time I did not ask

I assumed she would be there

but let her pass me by.

It was a time when I was young

It was a time when I was shy

I really wanted to be with her

but let her pass me by.

a first moment poem

I felt her voice
through my heart

I saw her eyes
through my heart

I heard her words
through my heart

her voice, her words, here eyes
are my heart
                                             gsbatty