Cousin Cletus and Technology
Dear Cousin Rufus,
Greetings from the city...er, country village.
Not much goin’ on here except shoppin' once in a while and rakin’ leaves in the backyard.
I should tell you about the day we went shoppin’ for a cell phone. The kids were afraid we’d fall and not be able to call for help. So, they told us to go buy a cell phone. You never saw such high-pressure salesmen, Rufus! It went somethin’ like this:
Salesman: “You’ll probably want a smartphone. It does everything a computer does, only better.”
Me: “No thanks. Just give me something I can use to call my friends, my kids, and the ambulance if I fall down.”
Salesman: “How about this one? It calls you to remind you of important appointments. And it can help you make Power Point presentations.”
Me: “What’s a Power Point? How about a phone I can just make calls on?”
Salesman: “Here’s a good choice. It lets you ask questions of Siri. She’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Me: “Oh good. Who’s going to win the World Series next year?”
Salesman: “Now you’re going to love this little model. You can lie in bed and it’ll turn on your microwave to heat coffee in the morning.
Me: “I don’t drink coffee.”
Salesman: With this I-phone you can turn the lights on in your house from anywhere. And it’ll turn your AC up or down from anywhere. You can’t go wrong with this one. It can open the garage door on your house in Florida.”
Me: “I don’t have a house in Florida. And if I did, why would I want to open the garage? To let out my pet armadillo?”
Salesman: “Look at this. You just say things and she translates into one of 15 different languages.”
Me: “Oh really? Well, I don’t know anybody from Outer Tasmania and I don’t have plans to travel anytime soon. Don’t you have a plain cellphone that makes calls in case of emergencies?”
Salesman: You’ll want this baby. It has a thing that reads QR codes. You can go to a restaurant, open the menu, and point your phone at it. No need for a waiter.”
End of stupid conversation.
Rufus, you won’t believe this. They told me there’s a phone that tells you what kind of Pace-maker a body is wearin’. Like I’m gonna walk up to somebody on the sidewalk and say, “Looks like you got the latest model Pace-Maker, Bubs.” How dumb is that?
Well, we got our kids to order what they called a plain flip phone. They were snickerin’ at us for bein’ so backwoodsy, but you know what? I like bein’ that way. And I still look people in the eye when I’m in the same room with ‘em. Our grandkids don’t know how to do that.
Your cuz,
Cletus
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