So, somebody (not me, not my brother, and not our mom) decides that Grandmother needs a computer. At the time, my grandmother was about 80 years old and hadn't even seen a typewriter since she quit work around 1984. And honestly? On the day she retired, Grandmother played "Take This Job and Shove It" at work so it's not exactly like she enjoyed work or work related things. For example, typewriters. While there was some serious logic behind teaching my grandmother to use email (no more long distance charges on her phone bill, it would give her something to do), her desire to adapt to this particular techological development was way, way, way over estimated.
But the computer was given to her anyway, and Mom and I went over, hooked it up, and set up her email account. Just from that little interaction? I ended up writing out a literal step-by-step instruction booklet of how to turn on the computer and then how to get into email and check, send, and receive it. This was so long ago that we were using dial up and Juno. Yep. I know. And, to help paint the scene, it was literally this detailed:
Turn on computer:
Push in the square button beside the yellow note that says "Power Button"
Let go of button
Wait for computer to complete the start up process.
This will take a few minutes. You will know the start up process is done when the monitor (the thing that looks like a small TV) is blue instead of black, and the little square that says "JUNO" shows up as a box on the blue screen.
At the time, I worked in IT and actually knew something about computers versus now when the best my brain can do is recall Dr. Seuss books and stream an endless loop of NickJr. theme songs. Therefore, when there was a problem with the computer, and there was always a problem with the computer, my grandmother would call my mom, who would try and help her, and when she couldn't help my grandmother they would call me.
Unfortunately, I was very little help unless I was sitting in front of the computer. What can I say? I'm visual that way. So it never worked for me to try and talk my grandmother through any issue. She didn't understand what I was talking about whatsoever, and I wasn't exactly the most patient tech support. The conversations went a little something like this:
Me: Hello?
Mom: Hi Honey.
Me: Hi Mom.
Mom: I'm at Grandmothers, and there's....
Me: ...a problem with her computer?
Mom: yes. I tried to fix it, but I just don't know about computers.
Me: (sigh) What's wrong?
Mom: Well, I'm not sure, but I can't find the email button to pull up her account.
Me: Are there any icons on the screen?
Mom: Well, yes.
Me: Are there any that look like the Juno icon but that don't say Juno?
Mom: No. Just the standard ones.
Me: Okay. She may have deleted the icon.
Mom (to Grandmother) Did you delete the icon?
Grandmother: NO I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! This thing just doesn't work. I don't even know why I have to do this.
Me: Okay, whatever. Let's just make a new one.
Mom: Okay.
Grandmother: I can't even hardly read anymore. My eyesight is bad. The words are too small. People keep sending me some stupid jokes. I don't care about getting jokes. This takes too long and it's (the computer) hot. It's going to get so hot that house catches on fire and burns down. I think we should unplug it. It's too hot.
Mom: Is there a way we can make the words bigger? She's having trouble reading the small print.
Me: Oh my God. How big does she need them to be?
Grandmother: And none of this stuff makes sense anyway. Even the stupid jokes don't make sense because no one ever finishes them.
Mom: What do you mean?
Grandmother: I try to read all this stupid junk y'all send me and nothing is ever finished. Carolyn's emails just stop in the middle of what she's telling me. People try to sell me stuff. I don't know why y'all can't just come by or call. I'm here all alone, a poor old woman, and no one ever comes to see me or cares about how I'm doing. After all I've done for you. And now you want me to use this computer thing that's going to burn my house down.
Me: (silent giggling) She's not scrolling down the screen to finish the emails. Mom, she's not scrolling down. Oh God! (giggling)
Mom: Shhh! Let's just get this icon thing fixed and I'll show her.
Me: You'd better write it down. (more laughing) Use really, really large print.
Mom: Mmmm-hmmmmm. Now what do I need to do?
Lots of things just like this happened. Grandmother had trouble with the mouse, which is pretty typical for older people trying to get used to using a computer. I tried to show her how to just use the keyboard to navigate so she wouldn't have to use the mouse, but that just made things worse. We increased the font as large as we could get it, and make the icons as big as we could too, but Grandmother swore she still couldn't see either, so to make her point she used to have a big magnifying glass beside the computer and whenever we were over there providing tech support she'd make a big show of holding up the magnifying glass to look at the keyboard or the screen, or the on button, or the 'notes'. Sigh. And then, even though she could type by touch about 60 wpm, she'd hold the magnifying glass to the keyboard and hunt and peck.
Eventually, and when I say eventually, I really mean after about a year, she got to the point where she could more often than not turn on the computer and open her email without assistance.
However, she and the mouse never really got along. She managed to get into the system files somehow (and some porn, but I'm almost completely positive that was an accident) and do enough damage by typing in a partial email over the sys commands that we (and by we, this time I mean R) had to wipe the hard drive and start over. I have no idea...no idea...how she managed that.
Not too long after that, I was over trying to uninstall some stuff she'd accidentally installed from pop ups, when she pulled up her email and starting replying to an email that she'd gotten from her youngest daughter. In that email? Were hateful, nasty things being said about Mom. Bitchy much? I think so. I guess when I saw the first comment, I should have walked away, but me being me? I read the whole thing. And then I came up with replies in my head (which of course I never wrote or sent) and then I thought of horrible ways this could come back to bite someone. Say, for instance, being posted on a blog that at least 20 people read. Not that I would ever do such a thing. ::Eyeroll:: ::Snort!::
After that, it was really hard for me to want to help with anything computer related. Or Grandmother related. Of course I did because Mom asked me to. But I was not sorry at all when we ALL gave up the whole computer/e-mail thing. Not a bit.
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