Monday, February 24, 2003

I recognize that I’m not

I recognize that I’m not the world’s most technologically proficient guy.  It took me three years to decide to learn how to program my VCR; I have no idea how to gussy up this blog; I don’t think I actually believe in electricity.  I’m no Luddite, I’m just old-fashioned.  Verging on primitive, but accepting of new technologies - so long as others bear the burden of making them work.

But one particular challenge of modern mechanics is making me feel like I’m losing my right to remain in this millenium.  Every time I confront it, I am bested.  It should be easy.  Little children do it.  Old folks do it.  It’s the world’s favorite tool, and each time I try to make it my own, I fail.  Repeatedly, pathetically, inexplicably.

I cannot dial a telephone.  Okay, I don’t have a phone with a physical dial, but I can’t punch in nine (or eleven) numbers in the proper order without screwing up between two and six times.  First, I start reversing the numbers - not out of dyslexia, it doesn’t happen in other contexts.  Then, when I think of the digits in their proper order, I just punch the wrong buttons.  I treat the phone keypad like a calculator keypad, which has a totally reversed orientation. Or my finger just strays and I hit the button next to the one I’m aiming for.  Or I forget one number.  Or I add one in that shouldn’t have been there.  There is no end to my creativity in foiling my own telephonic intentions. 

My big idea is a phone dialer that lets me punch in all the numbers first and then go back and correct the ones I got wrong, before any of them are sent through the magical connection process.  That way, once I’ve input a dozen numbers and realize I’ve gotten some of them wrong, I can just fix the errors without having to start from scratch.  Is this on the market?  If not, I get a cut as creative consultant.  Or consulting klutz.  Call me what you will - so long as the check clears.