Well, it began as a good day. I received an email of such immense kindness, from a wonderfully unexpected source, that my morning was brightened. I'd slept poorly and had sat down at the computer groggily considering the day. Then a little ray of sunshine enters my life. How wonderful. How quickly the fog of the evening left me. I was ready to face the day.
Then Joe and I headed down to get my new electronic calender, an 'Itouch', at a store that is completely accessible. We stopped to catch a flick along the way, The Last Station. Now that's how to make a movie. Have, plot, performances, pacing and powerful scripting. The only special effect was the writing. Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer were given the opportunity to actually ... act. Wow.
On our way home, after lunch and grocery shopping, Joe went into the LCBO to pick up a couple of beer and I waited for him at the corner. I managed to get off a great line, something that always pleases me no end. A young couple came out of the store, he carrying two bottles of wine, she carrying a plastic container with a huge chocolate cake. As I sat watching for Joe to come out of the store with his beer, they caught my eye and we all smiled. As they neared I glance from wine to cake and said, 'For the first time in years I could be talked into a threesome.' We all laughed. Them harder than me. It was nice.
The day deteriorated upon arrival home. We excitedly got the Itouch out of my wheelchair bag and tried opening it. Well, not exactly true ... we tried to figure out how the plastic box opened. We had no idea. We tried the obvious, pulling at the top, it didn't work. After almost giving up I got Joe to search on YouTube for 'how to open an Itouch' and they showed clip after clip of people taking the thing apart. Shit, we wanted to just get it out of the box!!
We looked at each other, realized we'd have to go back down to the store and say, like Ruby does when she hands us an orange, 'open'.
We are so old that we can't open packages. We've got the strength we just don't have a clue.
I think we should just give up, admit we grew up when kids talked to each other through two cans attached by a string.
It may have been low tech, but at least we knew how to open the freaking cans.