Bethesda Maryland Guitar Teacher

Please Don’t Think Me Rude…

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012

Eric's enjoying Monet's Waterlillies in Paris

…if I don’t respond to your “chatting” on Facebook.  The truth is, I don’t understand it and I rarely see it. I need an aural cue like a loud alarm or even a punch in the nose to let me know you want to chat with me.  When will they come up this? In the meantime, instead, why don’t you send me an e-mail? Can other people see us chatting? Why do people like to talk to me on Facebook? Why is that so cool? If you send me an e-mail, I will answer it very promptly. I promise! I’m really very good about that.

I don’t know about you but when I have to “chat” with the customer service folks at Land’s End, I get very anxious. I wonder why it is taking so long for their response and if I have gotten cut off.  I fear they won’t stick around unless I type and send my message really fast. I wait with baited breath for “Constance” or “Lloyd” to tell me they don’t make sexy bathing suits in my size. (Note how unusual the names are of people who work in customer service.  They can’t get other jobs because employers can’t get past their names on their resumes.  I wrote a song about unusual names called, “Remember When Morgan and Chase were Banks?”  One day, it will be available on my website. But since I don’t even understand the “Chat” feature of Facebook, it is unlikely to appear as an MP3 before the next Presidential election.

Also, I don’t understand why people text my phone instead of sending me an e-mail.  Do they assume I am ALWAYS out shopping? (As a matter of fact, I usually am since we are ALWAYS OUT OF BANANAS!)  It seems that these folks who text my phone need to urgently notify me of something important like that the local library will be closed for renovations in the Fall of 2015.   FYI, my computer keys are significantly bigger than my phone’s keys so when I respond to you, I don’t have to erase three-fourths of what I’ve written due to a million typos.

I work at home. I’m at my computer all the time. I have my cell phone on only when I leave the house. Even if I leave it on when I am home, my cell is usually downstairs in my mudroom (aka, the piano bench) and I’m upstairs so I can’t hear it. So, don’t you see, I don’t get your text unless I’m out on errands. And then I am driving (unless I’m in the banana aisle) so it’s not safe for me to respond.

Now I know I shouldn’t complain and shouldn’t alienate the 67 friends I have on Facebook.  I am such a loser!  Even my cleaning lady has 300 friends.  They’re all cleaning ladies too! But seriously, I think there should be some standard for whom you can friend on FB. It should be someone you really would want to have a beer with. Because after all, FB is like a virtual bar without the buzz. But I swear I know people who friend everyone in the White Pages. And by white pages, I mean all white people.  These are the same people who claim to be all about diversity. Just not on their FB.

My poor son always has to explain new technology to me.  I asked him why people can’t just send a text to my computer where I am located most of the time when I am not in Trader Joe’s.

“Mom, people cannot send a text to your computer.”  I get very frustrated because I feel like with all this “cloud” stuff, that can’t possibly be true.  (The cloud thing is such an abstraction to me that it might as well be explained to me in ancient Greek).

In frustration, I blow up at Eric. “Well, why can’t Bill Gates or Warren Buffett do something about the text message to computer thing?”  (I know Warren Buffet is not a computer guy but with his money and friendship with Bill Gates, I figure he is fairly influential and gets the job done!)

My son responds, “Is Warren Buffet that dude with the Pina Colada song?”  Some things will always be generational. My son and his generation are tech savvy by nature.  On the other hand, my generation spent their adolescence “…wastin’ away again in Margaritaville…”

Tags: , , , , ,

Posted by Sally Pessin
Filed under: Humor Blog

Leave a Reply