Thursday, June 23, 2016

The joys (not so much) of learning new technology

LAS CRUCES  - Ah, the joys of learning!
I’d planned to give myself a break during cruel April, when it seems the most I’m up to is persuading my body to survive allergy season.
Instead, when I’d just as soon turn on my home TV and veg out, I’m learning how to “enjoy” a new “multiplatform entertainment roster” of seemingly infinite possibilities. After a hard day slaving over the keyboards, researching, writing and editing images and words at work, all I really want to do is find and record my fave TV shows, and fast-forward through the commercials.
I’ve never really bonded with Siri, truth to tell, and we grew further apart after I asked her the meaning of life and the best she could muster was, “Some think it’s chocolate.”
So, frankly, the last thing I want is a TV that talks, one of the exciting new functions foisted on me, when I’d much prefer a rate cut, thank you very much. I don’t want to have to tap several options to access a bunch of teensy program logos, apparently for the illiterate, that zoom large and offer a dozen more function choices.
But I’m learning to access old-fangled program listings, and (finally, gracias a Dios) I’ve managed to turn off the voice function that automatically reads the description of every program I scroll on my guide.
I still haven’t figured out how to shut off or dim the LED clock and power lights that are bright enough to cast shadows in the dark. But I’ve discovered I can get a little relief by covering them with a washcloth and the instruction pamphlet that is written in three languages which I do not speak.
Writing, in English, in which I do feel fluent, even confident, after many decades doing it professionally, is getting more challenging, too. In the newsroom, we’ve learned three new multiplatform editing, word processing and photo and video systems during the last three years.
When my old iPhone died last month, I was eagerly anticipating a new, functional phone that I expected to be pretty much the same. But no. I do not wish to bank, pay bills, watch movies or redeem coupons on my cell phone. But I would like to figure out why I’m suddenly getting texts and phone calls from years ago, which have apparently migrated from my old phone, once owned by our former sports editor.
I have been attempting, without success, to find my helpful, large print manual that is diplomatically called something like “iPhone for Seniors” (rather than “dummies,” a tech title for which I qualify, alas). I’m still struggling with aps and have signed up for a refresher course, hopefully taught by a compassionate soul who recognizes how technical tangles impact Baby Boomer like me.
Please don’t get me wrong. I’ve always been a fan of life-long learning. There are all kinds of classes on my wish list, from line-dancing and new forms of yoga to painting lessons from some of my favorite artists: Julie Ford Oliver, Carolyn Bunch and Paula Van Overbeke Voris.
My contemporaries understand that high-tech learning can be almost as painful as physical growing pains in adolescence. Our aging brains (even pretty darn good ones that made Honor Society and mostly As in high school and college) function in different ways from those of whippersnappers who seem to have evolved in utero to automatically adapt to evolving tech gadgetry. With a leap as profound as opposable thumbs, they physically sprang forth with fingers, however large, that allow them to manipulate ever-tinier screens and keyboards with great speed and ease.
I know this could seem like a cop-out, but my earnest efforts have finally made believers of some of my most patient Millennial tech tutors. One long-suffering soul recently told me I should become a consultant for new tech product developers, “because if there is a way to do something wrong, or make something new malfunction or not operate the way it’s supposed to, you’ll find it.”
I don’t really have to find or search for it; it comes naturally. It’s instinctive, or in the vernacular: it’s “intuitive,” my innate default position.
I’m waiting for offers, tech testing magnates.
In the meantime, I rely on the kindness of my son, grandson and patient whippersnapper colleagues and sometimes, hapless, compassionate strangers. I’m willing to do just about anything to keep communicating and will willingly share some hard-won wisdom and secrets of the universe, if only I can figure out how to convey it all to you in a format you can accept and understand.

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450, dmoore@lcsun-news.com or @derricksonmoore on Twitter.

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