H. Neal Glanville: Love-hate affair with technology
December 8, 2008
As you’re well aware by now, I’m electronically challenged and proud of said fact.
It’s taken me eight or nine weeks to get comfortable enough with Jane’s computer to e-mail my columns to the paper each week. To phrase it bluntly I’m “pretty much” lost in this age of gadgets and computerized phew-phew.
It’s not being lost that bothers me. Heck, I have been temporarily misplaced several times. It’s the not knowing how it all works that really bugs me.
When I ask people who use this stuff all the time how it works, they don’t have a clue. They rattle off terminology that makes about as much sense as doctor’s handwriting. They smile at me like they know how it works, but they don’t.
During one of my early “lessons,” I asked Jane how the doodah connected to the boodah and how could the two of them work together. She gave me that quirky smile, shrugged her shoulders and said “don’t know, just does.” That “pretty much” is going to cover my acceptance of the computer age. I probably shouldn’t know more than that anyway.
The Friday after Thanksgiving, I stopped by the Daily Press office for my monthly ration of notebooks (I’m allotted one at a time) and to clarify some of the statements I made regarding my Chris Wilson column. At the end of our conversation, Jennifer Grubbs, editor of the Daily Press, just happened to mention :
Recommended Stories For You
Ever notice when people “just happen to mention” something that it’s shoved between two other sentences that seem more important than the “just happen to mention” sentence?
Anyway, Jennifer (the editor) Grubbs mentioned my stories were now “online.”
I made some smarty remarks, hoping to escape this information and her cubicle undamaged.
“Here, I’ll bring it up,” she said.
I could feel the black-and-blue marks starting to swell.
“You just go to Craig Daily Press-dot-com, type in H. Neal Glanville, click and there you are.”
Scary having someone click a button and poof, there you are.
After the “lesson” on how to find myself, I returned home to spend the rest of the weekend in object obscurity.
My need to find that page again overcame me in the wee hours of Sunday morning.
Quit giggling. We “electronically challenged” few would appreciate some respect for our defiance of progress.
I’d like to say that I followed Jennifer (the editor) Grubbs’ directions; I can’t, because I hadn’t been paying attention. (There’s a surprise.)
After a few (too many) tries, there it was – a list of my columns.
I clicked on one of my favorites, read the first paragraph and then noticed a doodah (that’s hi-tech lingo) underneath my name. The doodah read “E-mail comments, iPod-friendly and print.” I clicked on it.
There I was, surrounded by the words of my readers.
Giggling erupted from my giggle box, tears and a runny nose soon followed. I didn’t and don’t know what to say.
In the beginning of this adventure, I’d braced myself for an actual “letter to the editor,” or even the editor telling me it wasn’t working out.
But all these words from each of you.
How gracious you are.
I still can’t seem to write down how you’ve made me feel. So I’m going to stay atop this “green broke horse,” I’m going to keep giggling and, thanks to you folks, every so often, I’m going to thank myself for “givin’ it another try.”
What used to be
Remember cruisin’ out to the B&B for a grilled ham & cheese? Then cruisin’ back to the A&W for a brain freeze? I’d like the drive-in theater back so Jane and I could : never you mind.
By a show of hands, no fibbing, how many of you can say that you took part in the downtown Craig skunk hunts?
Unfortunately, I was expelled from one of the organizations that sponsored that extremely fun event. That didn’t keep me from shooting skunks from my roof, it just kept me from their meetings.
Calling my bookie
My oldest daughter, Ericca (yes, Mrs. Jacobson, she’s the oldest of the twins), has become a football fanatic.
Each week, I pick my “sure” winners, and she picks hers.
I have yet to win.
My losses have been so great, the computer at M.I.T can’t build a graph to show how poorly I’ve done.
I’m trying to say that Ericca turned out all right. She’s a great mom, even greater wife. Although it is a shame her talents as a bookie are wasted on me and her cousin, Kelly.
Until next time :
There I was, surrounded by the goodness of Craig.
Thank you for your time.