Tag Archives: technology

Wow, Am I Glad I’m Not Stuck Alone in a Cold Car in a Dark, Freezing Forest!

Google images: lehighvalleywithlove.com

Google images: lehighvalleywithlove.com

I was driving on a lonely, snowy back road when my car fishtailed. I spun and landed at a 45-degree angle in a snowy woodsy gully. Saplings wedged my doors shut.

No problem, I thought jauntily. In this day and era of gadgety and computerized automobility, I’ll have no trouble connecting with someone to help me escape from this misshapen Chevy.

I scrounged my pockets for my portable Commodore phone, but I discovered I had left it in my other phone holster.

No problem, I thought in a lively and cheerful manner. After I push aside this cumbersome and intrusively deployed airbag, I’ll easily access assistance via our car’s handy-brandy, blueberry-tooth, space-aged, drone-like, satellitistic messaging system. Hmm, now where did I put the recipe for that digital wigga-whammy?

I couldn’t find the digital wigga-whammy nor the recipe. I think both are in my other glove box.

Well, I thought with confident optimism. This is not like the olden days when people fishtailed on ice and ended up alone in a snow-filled woodsy gully ditch in the middle of nowhere because their car slipped off the road after spinning. In those days there was no way to communicate! Those days are over! Finished! Kaput!

Google images: autofocus.ca

All I have to do is punch in my friend Ed’s number into my conveniently portable dashboard–slash–windshield-washer roboticizer, and Ed will pick up one of his sundry devices and will jiffy pop over here to rescue me from this ever-darkening and ever-creepier woods where it is now starting to snow again harder this time.

I stuck the suction cup to the window and plugged the wire into the e-cigarette porthole. I pressed the Search key. Nothing happened.

Hmm, I thought. Electronical system not working. Probably a short in the trunk.

I attempted to maintain my sprightly mood.

When I finally managed to access Ed’s voicemail, night had fallen. I left a message for Ed. Ed returned my call three days later as I recovered in the hospital from frostbite.

“Hey, Blair,” Ed said. “I just saw your message. What’s up?”

“Thanks, Ed.” I said. “I almost died in a terrible car accident, and I called you for help. Where were you?”

“How do I know where I was?” said Ed. “That was three days ago. I don’t even know where I am today, ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha” I muttered. “Some friend. Thanks a lot for rescuing me.”

After saying goodbye to Ed, I hit the nurse’s call button to request additional jauntiness medication, but instead I mistakenly activated the hospital’s sprinkler system.


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Filed under Friendship, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Relationships, Technology, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!

Ding Dong! Wife Calling

Google images: andthentherewasmel.com

Google images: andthentherewasmel.com

“Business,” said my wife.

I looked over at her, but I really didn’t have to look to know that she had the phone to her ear.

“Business,” she said again.

Oh boy, I thought. Here we go again!

“Business,” said my wife, a little more loudly this time.

I snickered quietly, turning my head so she wouldn’t see me.

“BUSINESS!” she screamed.

I snorted.

My wife is a frugal person, and I truly appreciate that about her. That’s why, instead of using the usual directory-assistance number on her cell phone, which costs a few bucks each time it’s accessed, she calls 1-800-CHEAP-NOS when she needs a phone number. It’s free.

The problem with 1-800-CHEAP-NOS is that the automated ear on the other end of the phone never understands what anyone is saying to it. Thus my wife must continually repeat herself to get the robo-operator to comprehend and provide the correct number. She becomes frustrated. The rest of the family, however, finds it humorous.

Finally the fake operator understood the word “Business.” I could assume this, because my wife went on to the town name.”

“York, PA.” she said. “York. York. PA. Pennsylvania. PA. No, Pennsylvania. York, Y-O-R-K. No. Y like ‘yellow.’ No, ‘YELLOW,’ I said. No, yes, ‘YELLOW’ like the color. No, not ‘BUTTER,’ you idiot!”

One of the advantages of using 1-800-CHEAP-NOS is that you can insult it without hurting anyone’s real feelings.

By this time the family was gaffawing and looking at one another. My wife continued: “Y like ‘yellow,’ or ‘ying-yang,’ O like ‘ostracization,’ R like… Oh forget it. What? I said “BUSINESS,” not “BUMBLEBEE,” you ditzy flake!”

The reason for my wife’s call was that she was searching for the phone number of the eyeglasses store near our house so she could check on our son’s contact lens order. I got in the car, drove there, checked the status of the order, thanked the receptionist, obtained a copy of our receipt, and drove back home.

I walked in the door and my wife was still on the phone, saying “NO, I said CONTACT LENS EMPORIUM! Yes! No! Not AUDITORIUM, you LABYRINTH BRAIN! And I said ‘YORK,’ not ‘STORAGE!'”

“Sit down,” I told my wife. The Contact Lens Emporium said Biff’s contacts would be ready Wednesday.” I handed her a copy of the purchase order that I had picked up from the store. “They’ll call us when they’re ready.”

It was too late. My wife was on a roll and couldn’t stop. She continued yelling at the robot on the phone. It was getting dark, so the kids and I went out to dinner. We brought home a doggie bag for her.

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Auto Text Confusion

Google images

Google images: pixgood.com

My daughter helped me set up my phone so that words I’m texting will automatically correct themselves before I finish typing them. She said that this is known as the “auto-spell” feature. It is supposed to be convenient, but it doesn’t always work that way. I was driving to an appointment the other day, when she texted me:

“Hi, Dad, it’s Rachel.”

I put my cereal bowl on the dashboard and pulled my phone from my pocket. Holding the steering wheel with my elbow, I texted, “Hi, Racer, hover yogurt toddy?”

She texted back, “Dad, turn off your auto-spell. It’s causing problems with your texting skills again.”


“Go to ‘Messages’ and then scroll to ‘Settings’.”

“Oaken. The whittle?”

“Click on ‘Settings’.”

“I’m tryst, but boat not worming becalm my scream keeps goading blanch. Can u leaf me knot how 2 kelp my backlight on for a long shore speck? It offers after an only secondary.”


“I saint, I is tried to got settlers, but mine screen door blackfish, because I donut hole how longer the live cellulite level monastery backlight at is.”


“Or what u ever call itch.”

By this time, my fingers were tired, so I pulled over and stopped the car so I could finish this text conversation.

“Dad,” texted Rachel, “I can’t understand a thing you’re texting. Can you just FaceSlap me now?”

“Actuary no, buzz I’m in the cart gnarly. I while call yo.”

“Why don’t you just call me?”

“Yet, that what I justice say. Let meet gone to mind speech dialysis now. Talk 22 you in a mice.”

“Okay,” texted Rachel, and she signed off.

I hit back, back, back on the keypad and then pressed 5, which is Rachel’s speed-dial number. I heard her phone ringing on the other end.

“Hello, Dad?” said Rachel.

“Yes, hi Rachel. How are you?” I said.

“I’m fine,” said Rachel.

“That’s good,” I said. “What were you texting me about?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to say ‘hi’.”

“Oh, hi.”


“Well, gotta’ go,” said Rachel.

“Okay, bye,” I said.


I pulled back onto the road and continued to eat my cereal. This texting is not what it’s cracked up to be, I said to myself. Then a cop ticketed me for wearing my seatbelt over the wrong shoulder.

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