The Apple Family (snap! snap!)

by Cathy

We have officially become an iFamily.

This status was acheived recently with my husband's purchase of an iPhone. (Granted, he had an iPad but that doesn't count for the purpose of this post.) He was the last holdout with his puny Android My Touch and its green and grainy camera and its frustratingly slow as molasses browsing capabilities. He didn't even use half the features on it because of that reason and God forbid, didn't even think about downloading an app from its limited app marketplace button thingy.

Therefore, at my persistent urging, since I couldn't bear to hear, "I have GOT to get a new phone!" one more time and every time it shut down on him in the middle of a call or he almost threw it against the wall because he was waiting centuries for it to upload a web address, he finally crossed over into a territory most hospitable and welcoming: Appleville. Like most families, we are now on one tidyly packaged Verizon family plan.

No offense against any other type of phones/phone users; your phones are just as great and heck, maybe even better in some respects. But we really don't care, because we are Apple Fans through and through. We've never owned PCs and the two times we ventured out on a limb and went with Androids, both times were a bust. Case in point, exhibit A, my husband. Exhibit B, my tween, for whom we purchased said phone and in return, got this:
"MooooOOOOM! I can't download anything on this phone! There are no good apps! It takes forever! It's so annoying! I want an iPhone! When can I get my iPhone?!"



For her birthday in April (and for garnering some pretty awesome grades) she got her iPhone. Elation came in the form of tears of joy and a smile no one could wipe from her gorgeous face.

So as the circle of life commands, her iPod, complete with with shattered glass yet still 100% functional and loaded with game apps envied by children of all ages, was bequeathed unto a very satisfied younger sister, who has quickly and thankfully gotten past the novelty of having an iPod. (That makes only one of my kids not hooked up to a device like a life support I.V.) Until...she gets wind of how "cool" it would be to have a cell phone when the time comes for her to have a cell phone. For now, I rejoice.

As for me, I happily was the first to make the jump, the leap from a crappy old flip-phone to my iPhone almost three years ago and I haven't looked back. I am completely, 100%, fully and happily committed to my iPhone and when this one breaks down, I will probably get the newest version of it. We can (and have) spent hours at the Apple store and every time we go, we are amazed at the capability and capacity these devices have, which we aren't taking advantage of for lack of knowledge or the effort required to put forth into find these things out.

I will keep the faith - Jobs or no Jobs. No matter how far the stock falls, no matter how many cleverly humorous television commercials try to trash the "original", I will be here for it. And so, from the looks of it, will my iFamily.

Word to Your Grandmother

by Cathy

After picking up the girls from his parents' house one evening last week, my husband briskly walked into the living room with his coat still on, and asked: "Did you request for me to pick up some milk?"

"Ummmm...nooo," I said, my eyes still glued to Grey's Anatomy. "That was random. I didn't text you or anything."

"My dad said you texted him and asked him to ask me to bring home milk."

"What? Why on earth would I text your dad? He doesn't ever carry his cell phone. That thing still works?"

He shot me a look and headed into the kitchen to promptly call his dad and get to the bottom of this mystery text. I could hear him clear across the house.

"Dad, Cathy said she didn't text you. Can you check your phone again?" [pause]

"Check to make sure it was from Cathy. Just click on the text itself. Click. [pause] What time did she send it?"

[pause]

"Are you sure?" he chuckles. "Dad. Dad? Check the date. When was it sent?"

[pause]

"Just click it and it should tell you," he said.

[loooooong pause]

Suddenly, Joe's hearty laugh boomed through the house; a continuous cacophony of high-pitched howls and throaty, breathless gasps. I walk in to see him wiping tears of laughter from his eyes before he hung up. He took one deep, focused breath, looked me straight in the eyes and blurted out, "Turns out that text was from two years ago," he emphasized. 

"Bwahahahaha!!" We both busted out in hysterical laughter. And right there in our kitchen that night, we sealed our karmic fate in that this, will in fact, happen to us one day.

Could this be my future grandkid?

It's true our parents' and grandparents' generations didn't grow up in the technologically booming era we did. Therefore, they had to make the effort to acquaint themselves with computers, smartphones, even regular, plain 'ol flip cell phones. Their fingers aren't as adept as ours, their motor skills not as fluid and their reflexes not as quick. It takes them a little longer to get the hang of "this stuff". And those are the brave ones; the rest are too intimidated or feel too far behind to even attempt a try.

I give props to them there elders that try to keep up. I wonder if I will have the patience and wherewithal to keep up with the leaping advances of technology when I am their age. And if not, I know the younger generations will be waiting to pounce on our lack of technological knowledge, ready to "Bwahahahaha!!"away at our expense.

Oh...wait. My kids already do that.

The iFamily

by Cathy


Hey y'all! Yee-haw!!!!
We done leaped into the 21st century!!!
We bought an iPad.

You gotta know our backstory to know that this is kind of a big deal in our house, and apparently, a shifting of the planets' alignment in my tween's world.

First off, let me clarify that we are not like The Beverly Hillbillies ; we are forward-thinking, technology-aware, on the edge-of-trends people. I have an iPhone, Bella has an iPod and we have one Mac laptop and one iMac desktop. The problem, however, is how old these two computers are.

If it wasn't for Mac's sleek, minimalistic design, you could not tell that this is 12 years old:

That's our new, powerful, smartcased iPad wedged up tauntingly against a classic.

Or that this is seven years old - at least:

iMac G5: cool name, cool design, bad mutha(board)

My husband, a bonafide MacHead and a staunch believer in using something until you can't physically use it anymore, refuses to part with the tiny little laptop, claiming, "Are you kidding me? This is retro Apple. It's vintage! It's awesome! People at the coffee studio always ask me to check it out!"

Ya think it's 'cause it's sort of like, a relic? 

This is one of the first MacBooks Apple came out with so it is sort of a collectible and to be completely honest, if you can get past the tingy sound when it powers on or the fact that you have to connect it to the internet with an ethernet cable (GASP!) that little thing has so much power, memory, speed and form, it seems almost wrong - sort of like watching tiny toddlers start walking prematurely and how in the world can that be physically possible? It's our little workhorse, which will now be used by our tween for all of the middle school essays she was to write, so it's still being put to great use!

The desktop, however, is a whole other story. When you turn this dinosaur on, it sounds like The Gong Show. GNNNNNNnnnnnnngggggggg!!!!! One of the few goof-ups Apple made had to do with this particular iMac G5. Apparently, as we were told by MacHead repairmen, this version has a defective motherboard that will eventually cause the computer to just die. Then they went ahead and listed the "symptoms" caused by the "diseased" motherboard and wouldn't you know it, we are experiencing them now: it can't be upgraded to the newest version of Mac OS; it starts going dead on us; the cooling fan kicks in loudly when it's off, just to name a few. Oh, and our favorite? Ever since we did a slight upgrade to Leopard, it set something else askew within its sick self, whereby it shuts completely down if it's left unattended for a short amount of time. As in five minutes. Gotta go to the bathroom while you're in the middle of something? Fuggedaboutit. Gotta restart the sucker all over again. GNNNNNNnnnnnnngggggggg!!!!! 
Oh, and are you sitting? It's also NOT wireless. We don't even own a router! (DOUBLE GASP!)

So now you know why getting this iPad was such a big deal (mainly for my husband, who does a lot of work from home). For me, slightly less because I got myself an iPhone a year ago and joined the high tech masses of society. I was so excited about it, I slept with it next to me on my nightstand. Still do. But for my husband, who is still tinkering around with a T-Mobile phone, the iPad was an angelic Godsend. He's still getting used to its capabilities, nuances and little quirks, but as the days go on, his awe for the thing becomes greater and greater.

He happened to email me something while I was at the grocery store the other day so I emailed him back from my phone. Under his message, was the omnipresent, "Sent From my iPad" and under mine, "Sent From my iPhone." I didn't even realize that until he emailed me back and said, "We are an iFamily now. :)" I could almost feel the pride emanating from the screen. Until our iMac dies and we buy a new desktop.

Eavesdropped: Insane Gramp

by Patti


S was Skyping with Bella the other day, when Bella asked her if she had Instagram.
"Yes! In Argentina!" replied S.
Bella blinked over the virtual airwaves, trying to understand S's answer.
"Why did you ask me that?" S asked, trying to understand the reason for such an odd question.
"Ask you what?" replied Bella.
"If I had an insane gramp...."

In a parallel universe, somehow this.......

equals this.

Acquiring Signal

by Patti


We had the same television in our family room since S was born. That's 11 years. And in technology time, I'm pretty sure that is actually more like 6923 years.

A couple of years ago my brother-in-law was living with us for a while, and he, being the television addict that he is, immediately ran out and bought a flat screen TV. M, being the proud "I'll buy my OWN flat screen TV --- IF I want it" kind of man that he is, relegated the stylish, sleek, expensive, MODERN television to the basement, where it got good use only thanks to my brother-in-law and S's Wii-lovin' friends. (And late nights visits from me, where I may or may not have licked that smooth, flat screen in the dark.)  But then my brother-in-law moved out, and, as a parting gift of "thanks for letting me mooch off of you for a year", he gave us the flat screen.

That was almost two years ago. And the television stayed in our basement - pretty, shiny, MODERN, largely ignored. "Don't you think we should maybe think about swapping our old TV with the flat screen. I mean, we never go down to the basement,and that TV... it's so nice, and it's not being used. At all." I often said to M, hoping to appeal to his ever-present practical side.

My rational arguments finally made sense, and the moment he caved and shrugged his shoulders, I got busy. I scored the perfect TV stand on Craigslist, and this past Saturday, while M was at work, I hauled it in the backseat of my car from the seller's house to our house, and began the machinations of bringing our family room into 2012. I disconnected cables and wires wildly, mentally taking a snapshot of where each one belonged. I rolled up the rug and dragged the heavy media armoir that had housed the old TV into our kitchen, and I then carried our dinosaur television - which appeared to also weigh as much as a dinosaur - down to the basement. In the process, I'm pretty sure I felt a vital cable disconnect in my brain - one that seemed to be attached to my lower back.

Once I got to the basement, I began unhooking all of the craziness down there, taking more mental snapshots of the setup so that I could repeat it upstairs. We have DISH satellite, so the setup requires a fancy box that not only delivers our channels, it also delivers the HD to our TV. I felt so snappy, alive, capable! I told S that I'd be done in less than an hour, and then we could go out and grab some lunch.

Three. Hours. Later? I was still at it. But by this point, I no longer felt alive! Capable! Snappy! I felt dead! Dumb! Crabby! The cables and connections made no sense, and no matter which configuration I attempted, all I ever got was an "Acquiring Signal" that froze on the flat screen. And I hadn't even BEGUN the dinosaur connection downstairs. Not only that, but the TV stand I had just scored? Looked college dorm-ish and cheap in our family room. The flat screen, once majestic in the basement, now looked small and, well, flat. "What have I DONE?" I lamented to nobody in particular.
"Mom, I'm hungry! You told me we were leaving soon, and that was HOURS ago!"

Just as I was about lay on the floor in surrender, M came home to a jungle of cables and wires and two dead TVs.
"Hi babe!" I called out, all chipper and jauntily, attempting to conceal the half-assed, half-done job now splayed out before us. "Don't you just LOVE our new TV stand? I got it off Craigslist. Oh! I can't get the cable to work. I've tried everything. Can you try?"
"MO-OM! I'm STARVING!"
M looked around, surveying the technological warfare in our family room. Then he calmly began to unravel the snakes of wires. I instantly felt better - I just knew he'd be able to figure it out.
"MOM, I'm DYING of STARVATION!"
"Why don't you take S to get something to eat, and stop and pick up some of these?" He held up some of those fancy red/yellow/white wires that apparently make things work.
"Okay - be back soon!"

S and I were gone for about an hour, and when we returned, I found M lounging on the deck, talking on the phone. I gave him a "thumbs up" question, and he thumbs downed me back. I rushed into the family room to find the cables and wires all neatly rolled up, the flat screen sad and useless on its new, ugly, college dorm-y stand. M walked in behind me. "What happened?" I asked.
"I can't figure it out."
My heart sank. M is the most MacGyver-y person I know; that man can figure out or fix anything. The fact that he was waving his white flag at our TV problem led me to believe we were destined to Jenga and Monopoly for the rest of our lives. "That does it! I"m calling DISH." I punched the number into the phone, put up with 10 minutes of prompts, and finally got a live guy. I explained the situation to him, and he immediately calmed my fears, telling me he could fix my problem in his sleep. "Even if you can't see it?" I asked him. "Cuz it's realllly hard to explain."
"Trust me."

So I spent 20 minutes on the phone with the cockiest tech support dude I have ever encountered, and when I saw the "Acquiring Signal" across my TV, and then a beautiful blaze of blue indicating the signal had actually been acquired, I literally whooped into the phone and started jumping around like an idiot with his pants on fire. "Ohmygod, you are SOOOO smart!" I gushed. "I have been working on this for, like, SEVEN HOURS!" My whooping and gushing and jumping only served to further cockyfy him, but I didn't care. At that moment, I had to rate getting our DISH satellite to work only second to giving birth to my child. Maybe even first since there was no pooping on the table involved.

Once we hung up, I caressed the television while M made sure the one downstairs was working, and as soon as the glow of that victory wore off, I remembered that I hated, but HATED the new television stand I had just bought. So M suggested we MacGyver our old cherry armoir. He removed the top, and suddenly, magically, with a hallelujah chorus behind it and a golden glow all around it, stood the most beautiful TV stand I'd ever seen. "Yes!" I shouted. "Yes! That's the TV stand I've been looking for!"

My victory was hard-won, because all the moving and shuffling and lifting and puffing did a number on my back, and  the next day I couldn't walk. Good thing I had ol' Flat Screen to entertain me while I lay on the couch - flat on my crippled back.

Idiot Box Society

by Cathy

I want to throw the book at Facebook.
I want Twitter to go down the shitter.
I want to flush YouTube down the DrainTube.
I want to feed SchoolFeed to the wolves.
I have no interest in Pinterest.
I have been SuckedIn by LinkedIn.
I have squared off with FourSquare.

I have Negativity towards Google Plus.

Friend, like, poke, check-in, link, connect, follow, pin, tweet, chirp, blog, share, retweet, mention, download, upload, tag, flag, tumble, instagram, view, click, comment, status, invite, update, highlight, feature, bing, ping, pong, join, unfriend, unfollow, dislike, check out, LOG OFF.

Too much is too much. How much more can we take? How many more "friends" and "connections" and "interests" do we need? How many times do we need to connect with the SAME people on yet another social media platform? How much more of our time can these sites suck from our lives?

Remember back in the day when the television set was called "The Idiot Box"? We have so many versions of televisions these days that we have officially become an Idiot Box Society. All day long, we are plugged into something - our desktops, our laptops, our iPads, our iPods, our Wii, our xBox, our DS, oh yeah, our televisions and lest not we forget the biggest Idiot Box of all - our smartphones. This title is bestowed upon smartphones purely for their portability and because of that, their constant accessability.

We are texting, gaming, linking, YouTubing, Facebooking, Twittering, Pinning, FourSquaring our way into social isolation (yes, even with 2,482 "friends" on Facebook) and self-awareness oblivion. What are we doing WHILE we are doing all of the above? Walking, driving, conversing with a live person, watching television (now, one electronic gadget at a time is not sufficient - we are on two and three devices at a time), eating (heck, I'm having lunch as I type this), working, working out, using the bathroom (I am guilty of this too) and pretty much every necessary daily task you can think of. If we could check our phones while we slept or were having sex, we would be doing that too. Wait a minute, I'm pretty sure people have covered that last one already.


People - it's time to stop.

Put down your phones and step away. In fact, put ALL of your techy thingies down and go out for a walk. With your kids. Or with your dog. Take in your surroundings. Be more aware of where you are right now, this minute. Start a conversation with a person on the street instead of posting endless, trite comments with people who live only out in the stratosphere. Have a real life human connection with someone you can actually touch.

Before I got my smartphone, I used to make fun of Patti because she was constantly nursing her Blackberry. She was on it so often I started saying things like, "Got that Crackberry on the nipple again, huh?" Granted, she was in real estate sales at the time, which, DUH!, makes total sense considering she needed to be in touch with the constant, demanding needs of her clients, right? But now...what's MY excuse? My iPhone has become a drug, an addiction, a sickening habit. My urge to check it constantly is like a tick my body responds to without my brain even thinking about it.

But I am slowly backing away from it. If I'm at home, I try not to even turn it on. I keep it in my purse at work. I'm picking and choosing the top two or three social media platforms I want to use - no more than that. I'm not cutting off my ties but stretching them out longer.

I once read that losing your smartphone now is much more detrimental than losing your wallet. That puts things into perspective, doesn't it? People have their whole life programmed onto their phones - including the capability to use it as a debit card, access bank accounts, start their cars or set security alarm systems for their houses. I don't know but it sounds like dangerous territory to me.  Let's not get too reliant on technology, folks. Because it will eventually screw us over in some way, shape or form when we are least expecting it. Sometimes, "old school" is the best school.

And in case you're wondering which way you lean, you are 'old school' when you make reference to the 'Idiot Box'.

If it Ain't Broke....

by Cathy and Patti

Ahhh, the good old days. There was no Facebook. No Twitter. No Internet, period.

Dinosaur Technology

Little, by little, technology began improving the way we do things, mainly, the way we communicate. At first it was scary but intriguing; intimidating, but challenging. We began buying big honking computers and brick-sized cell phones. We learned about software, hardware, operating systems, THE INTERNET! We went from floppy drives, to CDs to USB jumpdrives. Technical jargon eventually became ubiquitous in everyday conversation, so much so, that you wouldn't be able to understand half of the television commercials out there today if you're not up on
the lingo: Wi-fi, routers, iCloud (i Everything), apps, HDMI, hotspots, VOIP, USB, social media, interfacing, SEO, etc.

She's a brick.... phone!

And it keeps changing! Improving! Faster! Bigger! Most of these techy doodads are overloaded with stuff we don't think we need now, but then find we can't live without. Truth is, there's SO much stuff being flung at us at lightning speeds, it has to be that these devices come equipped with bells that will never be rung and whistles that will never be blown.

At times, it feels overwhelming, this need to keep up or fall off the face of the earth. If you can't communicate via a computer, smartphone, or tablet, you might as well crawl under a prehistoric rock. Imagine if it seems hard for us forty-somethings now to keep up with tutorials on building our own websites and creating our own blogs (widgets! badges! gadgets! linkies!) how much more difficult it is to cope with living life in a technologically-driven society for our parents. Once their generation dies off, there will be no humble recollection of the slow-paced simplicity that once was. And that is one sad realization.

Technological advancement is running so far in advance, that it is circling back around and onto itself, actually back-pedaling from its intended purpose. People have become so reliant on it that they forget the basics. And it's time for the technology advancers to leave well enough alone.

Cathy
I've seen the repercussions of technology takeover firsthand on several occasions. (People, you CAN use your key to open your car door if your remote doesn't work!)

Upon entering our house the other day after school, barely having taken off their coats, my kids scissored out in each direction to stake their claim on our tech devices. Ari claimed the house computer and Bella grabbed my iPhone and begged me for the passcode so she can text her friends.

"I told you, I am not giving you my passcode," I said frustratingly. "Just email your friend!"

"I can't if Ari is on the computer!" she retorted.

"Or CALL her," said my husband matter-of-factly. Honestly, this made me stop dead in my tracks.

'Oh yeah!' I thought. 'She CAN just call her. Duh!' It just proved how we've been programmed to default to technology.

My parents are immigrants who have never gone to school here. They can speak well enough to communicate but when it comes to dealing with their phone bill or calling Blue Cross Blue Shield about their policy, I take on those tasks for them.

At their house the other day, I clicked the phone on speaker mode and they listened in at how things are now done.

"Policy," I stated clearly into the phone.

"Representative," I stated a few seconds later.

I was having a conversation with an automated machine. I wondered how much money it took for them to build and create a voice recognition system that could converse with a human, instead of giving a job to someone and doing it the old fashioned way. Was this really a necessary technological advancement?

"You have to talk to a machine now," my mom commented aloud. "Instead of a person." Her comment pretty much clinched the absurdity of it all. She lamented to me about how she feels that technology will eventually replace the need for people to leave their houses to go anywhere - the bank, the grocery store, the post office  - since these places will be rendered useless. You can do it all from your computer! So in essence, the monster we've created to better communicate with one another will end up becoming the ultimate isolator.

Convenient? Or confusing?

I even got worried for my parents when the old coin-fed car meters were replaced by paybox meters. Would they know how to use them? (It's simpler to slide a quarter into a slot.) They don't own a debit card. (It's simpler to keep cash on hand.) They don't have a computer. (It's simpler to cut a check and mail it,  shop for things at stores and communicate with people face to face.) They don't own a Kindle. (It's simpler to open up a book.) They don't have cable. (It's simpler to choose from a few channels than from hundreds of non-relevant ones). Technology touts the streamlining of our time, but in fact, the upkeep for it has monopolized our time.

If you have a Gmail account, you know that your email account has recently become NEW! and IMPROVED! And if you don't switch over willingly, it will eventually be done for you. Same goes for Facebook and their new tell-all timeline structure. Like it or not, if you want to use Facebook, you must abide by the new rules created by bored, bazillionaire moguls to come up with ways to invade your privacy further, annoy you to no end and ultimately, make it all user-unfriendly.

Patti

That Google! Changing its homepage because it was bored!

I was on Gmail, to which, I admit, I fled from my years-old email account that somehow lost its glisten, when I thought to myself, "This looks...different." And that is when I realized that it was different. I already knew Google had gotten bored and changed its homepage, but now it was also working its way into forcing me to change the previously just fine interface of Gmail to its New and Improved Interface!... or else. More curious than anything, I caved and did it. The "facelift" took a few minutes, and while I waited, full of anticipation and fully expecting for glitter-winged unicorns to come flying out of my screen, I was then disappointed to find that, eh, what's the big deal? WHY DID THEY EVEN BOTHER? The change was certainly not magical enough, or even notable enough to have made that whole five minutes of my life worth using up. I remember I was Gmail chatting with Cathy at that moment, and she got a little worried because her changeover was taking far too long. It turns out her changeover had not taken that long; it had actually already happened. That's how unspectacular it was.

I had to wonder: Why did they take the time to change what was truly already absolutely just fine? In fact, all they did was create stress. If it confused me, a pretty technologically adept person, and almost panicked Cathy, who, while not a technology genius, is certainly smart, experienced, and resourceful enough to figure it out if need be, imagine what it did to people like my mom, who still doesn't get that she can check her email from a computer other than her own - because, you know, the email lives in her computer.

But I am to blame. After all, my old email account, the one that had served me loyally and well for 15 years, was also just fine. And I abandoned it. For something better. So it serves me right that my "something better" also abandoned me for something better.

As much as we resist it, we also find ourselves being unwittingly carried along with the tides of change. Even my daughter, whose grainy picture was being emailed across the country before she was even born, and was then born into the digital age, suffers from severe technology ADD.  She has become disillusioned with her iPod (it's the first generation, Mom!), her Wii (it's kind of yesterday, Mom. It's all about the xBox Kinect now!), and her cell phone, (slide out keyboards are out, Mom!), and while I'm initially inclined to believe that it's because she just has too much, I also find myself itching for the latest smartphone - mine is over a year old now, and has lost its luster. I sigh over shiny new cell phones, then slap myself across the face and remind myself that I am an example, so stop it, already, your phone works just fine. And only then can I inform S that she is lucky she has any of these things at all.

Meanwhile, as I try to maintain that stance of resistance, I receive another notice in my email that I need to "download this upgrade!", then a notification on my cell phone that there are "updates available!", then a flash across my TV screen that I can "press this button for instant information!" on a program I'm watching, and I feel my resolve melting while my head spins into stupidity. All of this information! Information! Information! is actually making us DUMBER. The more we know, the less we know!

Explain that.

Just make sure you send that explanation via email. IM is probably better. Or you can Tweet it. Better yet: Post it on my Facebook page. Oh, wait - they are changing their interface again and it might be confusing for me to find. You know what? Call me.

Homemade Technology

by Cathy

Women are nothing if not resourceful.

There have been many posts written here about how Patti and I have made the best out of disappointing or crappy situations. That's what we do, we women, because it's in our nature. We have so much to handle, do and live up to that we find ways to accommodate and satisfy at every turn - even if we have to MacGayver our way through it. So when I see traces of this resourcefulness start cropping up in my daughters, I'm proud enough to brag about it.

Some history...

We have been loyal Mac users and lovers for the last 15 years - way before the "i" revolution in forms of clouds, phones, pads and pods.  We have owned a series of Mac-designed products - the MamaJamaJumboBox computer monitor with an equally large tower, the less bulky but still boxy version of the Mac desktop and even the colorful bubble Mac desktop.

We still have and use our nearly decade old iPod shuffle and Joe still uses his mini 13" Mac Powerbook laptop. I don't know if it's because that thing is old or compact or because it's discontinued, but when other Mac-ites see it they always stop and ooh! and aah! over it. Never mind that it's not wireless; Joe is very proud of that little engine that could (and still is). And our one home desktop, located in a central point in our home for the whole family to use, is aesthetically beautiful with its white, sleek, large monitor. But alas, we don't have wi-fi (GASP!) or wireless anything in our house (DOUBLE GASP!). In fact, Joe and I just bought smartphones this year (TRIPLE GASP!). Before that, we flipped our phones open and rarely texted. How did we communicate?

Since all of these Mac products have served us well and continue to do so (damn you, Apple) there is no reason, really, to buy a new laptop. Or another desktop. And we really don't need an iPad. I have my iPhone and Joe has his phone. Our kids? Bella has the 4th generation iPod bought last year and Ari always plays with my phone or her sister's DS. They don't have a Wii. They don't have an xBox. They don't have a Playstation. They don't have a computer in their room.

The only thing Bella, my 10-year old, is really obsessing after, is the ability to download music on her iPod. She can't do that because you need the latest version of iTunes on your computer. And to have that, you need the recent/newer OS for your computer. And since we have an older OS on our computer, apparently, one that can't be upgraded, we were told we need to buy a NEW laptop/computer, which......drumroll, please.......we really don't need.

So what does my resourceful, apple of my tree, do? She uses her will and finds a way. Music? She records it on her iPod straight from the car speakers, CD player or from the television or radio. Voila...homemade iTunes! Disney shows? Movies? She records her favorite snippets straight off the television and watches them back on her iPod. Voila...homemade YouTube!

Would she rather be able to download and view the real stuff from the real apps? OF COURSE. Does  she really need to? NO. But will we probably cave and have to keep up with the Jonesing of technology? Probably.

Dr. Google

by Patti

I made a startling realization the other day: Unless I Google "how to breathe in 5 easy steps", I may simply stop breathing.

I have become so reliant on Google for every answer to every question in my life, I am afraid I would not know how to survive without it. I have become the master of DIY in most every aspect of life, all thanks to Google. I taught myself how to use almost every software, how to rebuild a computer, how to zap computer viruses, how to heal a cold sore before it even happens, how to simplify fractions, how to hem pants without thread, how to rewire a chandelier, how to discipline my child....

Speaking of child, Google was just becoming its crazy, all-knowing self when I was pregnant. Do you know how dangerous Google is when you are pregnant? If you are pregnant right this very minute, don't do it. DO NOT GOOGLE. Because if you do, you will be certain your child will be born with 3 heads. You will also be certain that that tuna sandwich you just ate? Will be responsible for the 9 fingers instead of 10. I Googled myself into hysteria when I was pregnant, and Googled my unborn child into sideshow freak before I even met her. So, yes, although Google most definitely has its uses, it can also scare the ever-living crap out of you. (And yes, Google will also warn you that you will probably crap while giving birth. For this, I was glad to be prepared. Thanks, Google!)

Apart from the dangers of Google, the savior side of Google is downright awe-inducing. I am blown away by the fact that I can type in "how do people walk on fire?" and FIND AN ANSWER! Curious? Allow me: How do people walk on fire? 
I mean, really? There is NO WAY my parents would ever have known this in their day of wanting to know stuff. They would have had to drive to the library and paw through thousands of books to find the answer. And even then, it may have remained a mystery. But thanks to Google, I know this.

Google has been my know-it-all friend, time after time. Is my daughter's fever too high? Am I too fat? How do I install under-cabinet lighting? How much did my neighbor pay for his house? Are there any molesters living on my block? What are the symptoms of menopause? How do I import data from Excel into a PDF form?

Indeed, I have become a WikiPatti. I know something about everything. And if I don't know the answer, I just Google it, and then, just like that, I know it. Perhaps I am too dependent on Google and all its remedies. In fact, I might actually even be addicted; who knows? The signs of addiction can be quite elusive, so it's hard to tell.

Oh wait! Let me Google that.

Unplugged

by Cathy and Patti 

We both have daughters of the Technology Age. You know: the kids who know their way around a computer better than a playground; the ones who play tennis on a screen instead of on a court; the ones who have play dates that consist of texting one another as they sit side by side.

Call us grandmas, but this bugs us. Whatever happened to human interaction? Whatever happened to summers of skinned knees and winters of board games?

We have each contended with Technology Tantrums and Digital Doozies in our households, and frankly? We have had enough.

.........

Cathy:

I never wanted to become that family on Oprah that had every technological device removed from their house because they weren't communicating with one another. That got me so freaked, I've hunted for any scent of us going down that path ever since. When I see my kids on their DS or their iPod longer than a half hour, I demand they turn it off and find something else to do. When I notice that my husband and I are perched in front of the television too long, we make an effort to turn it off and do something with the kids.

Bella happened upon my neighbor's Wi-Fi password while she was over their house one day over the summer - my nieghbor had no idea of the consequence of giving her the password since his daughter is younger, and to his credit, has apologized for overstepping boundaries and offered to change it. I decided against that, hoping instead, to use this opportunity to teach her the life lesson of "everything in moderation." Since then, she has been watching old Disney show reruns incessantly on her iPod; so much so, that she's plugged into her iPod when she's using the bathroom and even while brushing her teeth.

Last week, I had a Tech Snap. I asked her to shut it down and hand it over to me one night while she was laying in bed and it was almost 11pm, she repeatedly, defiantly said NO while begging to finish watching her show. This wasn't the first time she did this, but it was certainly going to be the last. I yanked it away from her as my screams wafted up through the open windows for all of my neighbors to hear what a psycho snapper I can be. No iPod for three days.

Eventually, in calm mode, she and I sat down to discuss this. I told her it made me sad when she comes home from school and plugs into that iPod and I can't ask her about her day. Or when she would rather be on that thing than cuddle with me at bedtime. She had no idea how it was affecting us. Then she got sad about it. She understood.

So I made a house proclamation: Going forward, for one hour before bedtime, no DS, iPods or computers. That goes for me and Joe as well. And every Sunday will be our designated family game night. Everything in moderation. Slowly, but surely, we'll reconnect by disconnecting.


Patti: 
S is an only child, so she doesn't have a sibling to turn to when she's in the mood for some Chutes and Ladders or Monopoly. She doesn't have anybody to play "school" with, or a rousing game of Twister. Instead, she has her Papi and me, and a very uninterested hamster, who let's face it, has really short legs (and arms?) and would not do well in a game of Twister. I always end up the "kindergartener" in her "classroom", and her Papi has played and (over)played Jenga. I'll admit: We, the parents, get lazy, and fun pickins get slim. So she has turned to her BFF, the laptop.That kid knows her way around a laptop better than Steve Jobs (may he rest in peace). In fact, her dream is to work for Apple one day (when she is done touring as a ballerina and competing in Wimbeldon, that is).

S can surf the 'net on her BFF for hours on end, if we let her.  She will even take it to the bathroom with her to Skype her cousins, or research bras (because she is impatiently awaiting the day she can have one), or make Christmas lists, or listen to Selena Gomez on YouTube. And I'm all, "Can't you just poop in PEACE?". 

But then I remember, this is coming from the woman who takes her Android into the bathroom with her to catch up on celebrity gossip and send emails to friends. Seems I can't poop in peace, either.

And M? Loves him some Craiglist. He can spend hours browsing at cars he will never buy on Craigslist. If he's not on the computer, he will sit in the bathroom with his own beloved Android and plug himself into Pandora while he poops or pees, but not in peace.

So are we wrong to insist S unplug herself when we can't even unplug ourselves to, uh, unplug ourselves?

And it's not just in our household that I am finding connections being severed. I do my best to plan lots of play dates for S, and she has lots of good friends to hang out with, but I have noticed more and more that these "play dates" have no "play" in them. Instead, she and a friend will sit in front of the computer and watch YouTube videos together, or "picto chat" on their DS's, or text each other while they are both sitting on the same couch.

So I have decided: We will instill a Poop in Peace Policy in our household, AND a Friends Without Electronics Policy. I am hoping the new PIP and FWE policies will bring back some good ol' fashioned quality of life into our lives. 

Ready? Set? UNPLUG!

.......

We love technology; we just don't love what it seems to have done to the human connections in our families and friendships. While we would never want to go all the way back to the days of being totally unplugged, we do want to honor the real live wires of our existence - the human ones that matter most.

Spam

by Patti 

Last night I spent over an hour going through marketing emails that I never asked to receive, unsubscribing myself from all of them.  Want a sample? Let’s see…. InStyle, Daily Makeover, Groupon, 10(!) different real estate agents, LinkedIn, American Airlines, PetSmart, Apple, Trulia, 4 different Crains newsletters, some random energy company, an email from an 'As Seen on TV' company, Social Security(???), RISMedia, Us Weekly, Small Business Chicago…(PAUSING TO TAKE A BREATH)… Genie Bra (What? Did S – who is currently obsessed with bras – sign me up?), Chicago Business, Printable Coupons, Hotels.com, Carnival Cruises, Borne Company, Bally Total Fitness, Brain Bench, Barak Obama, Plato's Closet, Chicago Association of Realtors, Fresnobee, Orchard Bank, Rebecca – offering me a ‘Credit Card Bailout!’, Suzanne – offering me a ‘Mortgage Bailout!’ (Interestingly, NOBODY OFFERED ME A SPAM BAILOUT!)… But wait! There’s more! I just won’t ‘Spam’ you with the details.

During the process of unsubscribing, some of the ‘unsubscribe’ pop-ups were actually angry about it. One even exclaimed, “You jerk!” Another tried to play it cool and simply said, “See ya!”  Others were more melancholy about our parting, saying, “We will miss you”, or “We are sad to see you go.” 

But the kicker was the one who simply refused to believe I wanted to break up with it. “Are you sure?” it asked me. I clicked the “YES”(I am SURE!) box and submitted it. Another box popped up, “Please tell us why…” and I actually had to type out my reason for ending our totally one-sided relationship. Do you know how awkward that is? Once I submitted that, yet another box popped up, “We will send you an email shortly to confirm your decision. You are still subscribed until you click on the confirmation email.” I waited for the email. It never came. It still hasn’t come.

I have the feeling I will be seeing another marketing message from this company again. I’m sure it will just use the excuse that I never confirmed my break-up with it.  I am being Fatal Attractioned by Spam.