Gadgets and gizmos

I have spent my whole week updating my home office.

This is a task that I have been avoiding for a long time, as I am computer illiterate. What put me over the high-tech top was my 70-year-old mother couldn’t talk to me this morning. She was busy paying her bills online, while talking to all of her family members at one time with instant messenger. How that crazy woman can manage 10 conversations at once is beyond me. “If you want to chat you will just have to go online,” she said.

I considered it until she asked me if I wanted to hook up to some sort of camera that you put in your computer. That way you can watch the person as you type. No one should see me that early in the morning before coffee, so that idea is out.

Up until now my old office consisted of one old, shaky desk and a computer that was so old that my kids were reasonably certain that it might have come from some sort of localized rock. One look at the old clunker would cause their eyes to tear. This reaction worked for me since there was always a relatively slim chance that anyone would want to mess with it. The only thing that I am sure of in life is that a teen will not touch a computer if it isn’t state-of-the-art or a Dell.

I’m just not a high-tech-type person. I still like doing things the old way. I like to show a house by going inside instead of using virtual touring. I like to use a key in the door, read maps, and write checks at cash registers.

I am completely handicapped when it comes to high-tech gadgets. Take debit cards. I was in Wal-Mart and thought, “okay, I’m going to give it a try.” I slid the thing in upside down and only got it right when the 15-year-old in line behind me pointed to the picture on the keypad. I had to remember the secret code, which I am now considering having tattooed onto my arm. When I finally finished the transaction, the entire line applauded. It was indeed a Kodak moment.

After that accomplishment, I knew that I could move on to my next challenge, electronic lock boxes and virtual home tours. I

know that the new people in my industry just sort of click and paste and virtual tour through the inventory and I know that I have to keep up with them. Why just last week my office went to pick up our new electronic lock-box units. I don’t have a computerized navigational unit in my Jeep so I read the map and made my way to the pickup place a little bit early. Too bad for the folks behind me in line, since it seems that electronic navigational maps don’t show the dirt roads of Pike County.

I got my new computerized lock box, complete with instructional video. You punch in the secret code (another tattoo) and it opens, registering anyone who shows the house. After a brief demonstration, I had to ask the instructor about my biggest concern of forgetting the secret code or to recharge your electronic key.

“Not a problem Ms. Butler. If that happens you simply have to dial us up on your cell phone and we will be happy to walk you through the program.”

“Not a bad plan,” I said to myself, except for one teeny weenie problem—the only place I can get cell service is in my kitchen if I stand on a chair and touch my refrigerator.

But now that I have the keypad, I needed the computer to hook it up to. My office colleagues insisted that I take my kid with me on the purchase.

My daughter selected everything from printers to a gadget that takes my photos off my digital camera. She even picked out a new desk. She hooked it all up in about an hour and I now have state-of-the-art stuff that’s really shiny and pretty sitting here on the new desk.

The compromise was that I got to write an old-fashioned check for it all.