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"You should see a screen to initialize," said the woman behind the plexiglass. "Just scroll down. The pen is on the right."
Ever since my year of living with(out) the word just, I've been hyper-aware of its use. This explanation about scrolling was not going to make sense to the man standing at the window, and somehow, the use of 'just' exacerbated his struggle.
"I don't see it," he said.
As she walked him through the steps that had been easy for me, I learned about his age (78), his changes in physicians (they'd retired), his living situation (recently in a new apartment that his children who lived several hours away insisted on)... I could also tell you his go-to curse and his feelings about new medical office technology and plexiglass windows.
As I sat in the waiting room both trying and pretending to focus on my Words with Friends and not the interactions in front of me, I thought about my grandmother's refrain; "It's not my world," she used to say. My mother says it now, or something along those lines.
What won't be my world in another 25 years? How can I make sure it is? More and more, these sorts of questions swirl, reminding me to try new things and learn new systems, even when they're confusing and don't seem worth it. Maybe I'll try a new iPad app today since the only thing I've done so far on it is watch a show and read books.
My head is reeling with all the topics here. I am intrigued by your year without “just” and you have probably written about it but I missed it. What a concept. and in a few short strokes you show how that word made a bad situation worse for this man you observed. And “It’s not my world!” Wow. I am also at that age where is is still my world (granted, not all of it!) but I also should be working harder to keep learning the new, even when it is “confusing and doesn’t seem worth it” as you say. You present a simple small moment that says so much and is provocative to me. I dont want to be that man, yet we all will be that man, hopefully with our the (out-loud) cursing.
ReplyDeleteI also like how your centering your lines gives a verse-like quality to this piece.
Sorry to be anonymous- this is Fran McCrackin
ReplyDeleteAlso, meant to say “without” the cursing. Sorry to require three attempts to comment!
ReplyDeleteAh! Tech. Change.
ReplyDeleteThe old fears of " breaking it" are gone. On with "act." Do it. Tech should add to our lives not be reductions in our living. In 25 years I wonder if everything will be voice activated. Maybe?
I've just managed to arrive at a conference, check into a hotel, and park my car in another lot. My father is already trying to function in this world not his, and I'm wondering how far away I am from it. Technology outpaces me every.single.day. What a fascinating post, and I'm intrigued by the absence of just. I wonder about the absence of like also. I heard a keynote speaker argue that we should rid ourselves of the word guess in preK classrooms to build true thinkers who can't whimsically answer things without some reasoning or logic. I like this path of thinking.
ReplyDeleteTechnology is changing faster than some of us can adapt. My new car is smarter than me.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely appreciate your closing thought, "What won't be my world in another 25 years?" and the competition for your precious attention with those things, "confusing [that] don't seem worth it." I am within tapping-on-the-shoulder distance of 78 , and I can hear the lament of any septuagenarian who bemoans the new developments that make him feel...old. A part of me urges, "Keep up," and another, just as imperative, soothes, "Let it go." I'm hoping to walk the line between them with grace, and enjoy each step, however faltering they may be.
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