I was asked to participate in a conference by filming some answers to a few questions and then sending the video along. The clips from my answers would be used, along with clips from others with disabilities across the country, during a conference presentation. When I got the email, I read the questions and though that every one of them would be interesting to talk about. Here on my blog I get to talk about my disability but, other than here, I don't talk about it a whole lot. Especially to the depth that the questions would have me go.
I agreed to do this for them.
They sent me information on how to do it.
Within seconds of reading the instructions I knew that I simply didn't know enough about technology to be able to participate. I don't know when it actually happened that technology passed me by, but I know it's definitely happened. I don't know how to download a song, I don't know why phones need to do anything other that be a phone (I think phones are now in desperate need of counselling as they search for their lost identity). I have a wee camera that sits looking at me while I type. But I got tired of the relentless stare and unplugged it. I think that doing this, 'blogging' is the last thing that I did that was 'modern'.
I wasn't over being amazed at what fax machines could do when fax machines became nearly irrelevant.
I have come to see that red, insistent, demanding, intrusive, demanding, incessant, demanding, light that blinks on my Blackberry as the most harsh taskmaster I have ever had. Satanic red, I'm sure they chose Satanic red for a reason. I was lecturing the other day and had forgotten to turn the phone over so I couldn't see the light. Shortly after starting, it started, blink (answer me) blink (answer me now!) blink (you'd better check) blink (it's probably important) blink (go on, you want to). I turned it over, but for the rest of the hour, that red light blinked in my head.
So, I guess I don't have the best relationship with technology. I do wish I could do what they asked me to do, I would have loved to participate in some way. But ... I simply have no idea how to do it.
Joe came home with a fan, we've been having hot weather here, and I watched him assemble it. I help him by not helping. We yell at each other less that way. When he he was almost done he reached in the box and I heard him howl 'oh, no!' ... 'it has a REMOTE CONTROL'. Another to stack up in the apartment. Another one where we will figure out one setting and leave it at that.
I figure if we can't get a 40 dollar fan to operate in oscillating sleep mode, I ain't never going to send a video email.
How are the rest of you ... have you been passed by too?