First came the mom-cancelling headphones
My laptop started doing weird things six months ago, but I found a way to wiggle something back into place and if I held it just right, it still turned on.
I knew then it was on its last legs, and like everything you solve with a MacGyver fix, you know it can’t last forever.
The problem? As long as the fix is fixing, you forget you have a problem.
The other day, it finally crashed for the last time. I took it to Ari and asked what I should do. He glanced at the purple screen, pushed a couple of buttons and pronounced it dead. It promptly went black, as if it had just been waiting for its last rites.
“I told you it was going,” he told me, needlessly.
“I get it. But I need to replace it right now. I need this for work,” I reminded him.
“Best deals are online. But if you pay extra, we can get it shipped here by tomorrow.” “How much more is it?” “Forty-five bucks,” he replied. I told him we would not be paying for express shipping. When it showed up the next day anyway, I vowed to never pay for express shipping for anything, ever.
I’ve got a new Chromebook, and I don’t think I’ve ever had a computer so easy to set up. Ari had been pushing me in that direction all along, but the idea of new computers or phones makes me miserable. I do not like change; my world may look like thinly disguised chaos, but there is a very real and complete method to my madness. The slightest ripple in my daily structure leaves behind fault lines, and I wonder when I became so precious.
If you’ve moved to Chrome, you’ll understand how the Google Cloud works. All your things get automatically sucked up into the computer cloud for storage, instead of on the actual computer. This cloud then sits above all your devices, so as I change from phone to laptop to desktop to iPad, everything tags along for the ride.
It’s fly-around Internet at its very best, and I know I should have listened to my kid sooner. After years of fumbling with losing things, backing up and then losing the backup, and cut and pasting work to pass from one device to another, I now have the full autonomy my son has been barking at me about for a couple of years.
As I was patting myself on the back for setting up the new laptop myself – a first – I heard Ari talking with his buddies. It seems someone else’s mom was shopping for a new computer, and I heard them all chime in with the same advice Ari had given me.
“Yeah, tell her to get a Chromebook,” said one voice.
I liked hearing all these computer geeks recommending the same thing. I can’t keep up with a technological world that is moving at warp speed, and it’s tough enough sussing out the automotive features I face each week. I’m grateful when Ari spares me the hassle of sourcing the computer issues, and I think it’s sweet that he knew the Cloud would make my work life a lot easier.
I passed through the room a few minutes later, still liking the little glow I felt in having all these kids ready to give advice to those of us less skilled. And I was just in time to hear my own kid adding to the conversation.
“Chromebooks are definitely the best way to cut down on the dumb mom questions,” said Ari, and his friends all cheered.
It seems someone else’s mom was shopping for a new computer, and I heard them all chime in with the same advice Ari had given me.