- No There, There
On the very first day of our recent trip to LA LA land, I realized that we were traveling in two parallel universes simultaneously. One reality was along Highway One, the familiar route down the coast – winding in spots, spectacular in places, way more interesting than I-5. The concurrent reality was TechnoHell.
Our initial awareness of that curséd environ was our first evening of motel Wi-Fi. I thought it would be fairly easy to post my blog using a flash drive, my digital camera, and Nyel’s laptop. Wrong! FaceBook didn’t like my plan. They are into ‘heightened security’ — whatever that is. They snuck into the act (because my blog magically links directly with FaceBook) and took exception to the fact that I was using a different computer.
“Change your password,” they said. Okay. Done.
“Now change all your other passwords,” they said. Well, they didn’t mean all, just my email password(s). Not so easy, but finally it was accomplished.
But when the moment of truth came, my blog didn’t go to FaceBook anyway. Something about a plugin or an application or a function or some other damned thing I couldn’t deal with.
By now we were on the road again, so I tried to send a message via i-phone to Karl-My-Website-Guru. “Sorry, we do not recognize your password,” said the i-phone. No problem. I changed the password. Well, it worked halfway. I could receive email on the i-phone but I couldn’t send it. So I had to wait until we could find a Wi-Fi café to send my urgent plea to Karl via the laptop.
Meanwhile, I found that I was getting no FaceBook action at all. Click on it. Nothing. Click again, still nothing.
Neither friends nor family with whom we stayed could remember their passwords to let us get on their Wi-Fi circuits (or signals or whatever you call them.) So, I either used their computers or nipped out to a Starbucks with the dandy-not-so-handy laptop.
Dealing with all of it made me crazy. After all, I still think (more-or-less) that if you don’t have plugs inserted in electrical wall sockets, the electricity is probably spilling out into the room. And, if I’m at two with electricity, where must I be with cyberspace?
Things are not yet completely back to normal and I still feel the urge to duck when I go by beachdog.com so Karl won’t be tempted to throw something at me. I’m sure there are those who would tell me to give up thoughts of traveling – just stay home and stick to the familiar. Others would no doubt suggest that I quietly give up any dealings with technology. But, for now, I think I’ll persevere, hoping there aren’t nine circles of TechnoHell like there were in Dante’s inferno. Actually, it seems like I might have traversed that many already.
Sydney – don’t worry. Nothing will come flying your way as you drive by. For someone who is unsure about cyberspace and even electricity (I love the image for your electricity spilling out into the room) I have to say, you are exactly the type of person I always wanted the teachers to be like.
You are not afraid to venture out, do what you need to do to learn and improve and you are willing to ask for help when you need it. That’s all a website guru can ask. You have learned a lot over the last year + with your blog. And those of us who read it, have also learned and benefited from your trials.
Thank you for persevering.
WOW! Well, now I’m all puffed up! Thanks for the kind comments, Karl. I feel better about doing my drive-bys with head held high.
Technology is wonderful when it works properly. I’ve never had very good luck with WiFi in motels and probably won’t bother taking my laptop to Victoria later this month as the frustration isn’t worth it. As to FaceBook, they don’t seem to recognize my computer ever. I dutifully named it and checked the box “Don’t ask me again,” and yet they do. On the other hand I can log on from our stand alone downstairs which is primarly used by my son and they don’t seem to care as much. Perhaps they’ve some sort of prejudice against laptops! And you are right, the whole thing from the electricity to cell phones is magical in my mind. Dick Tracy talking into his watch was so furturistic when I was a child and yet, here we are!