Techno problem or memory loss?

Normally I think of myself as a hip chick with silver hair. Not then. I felt like an old white-haired lady who couldn't find the light switch.

I always thought I was up on the latest technology, on top of computer upgrades, camera updates, but after yesterday, I'm an idiot.

I have a TV in my bedroom and haven't been able to watch it for a good three weeks because of lack of internet in that room. What?

I tried at least 100 times to get the damn thing to work. Entered my password again and again. Pushed every option on the screen. Went down the list. Finally, I gave up. Figured I just live out my days with a blank TV at the other end of the room.

Resigned to my Smart TV being so much smarter than me, I watched movies in bed from my iPhone or iPad. Propped them up with pillows so I wouldn't have to hold the devices steady. It was tedious but insomnia was more tedious.

My dear friend, Rose, from San Francisco came to visit me. We've been friends since the mid '80s. We chatted and chatted and chatted and then went to lunch. It was glorious. The sun was shining, the weather warm. She's my hero, a woman with a cape. She took care of her husband who had ALS until the day he died; while running an international business. I've always admired her. She taught me the power of protests and changing social injustices. We'd go shopping when I was on top business-wise and she was still a poor student, having fun.

I'd have to write a book to tell of all her wonderfulness but the only thing she couldn't do was fix my damn television!

Rose drove from San Francisco with a friend of hers and the friend's grown son who have relatives in Lake County. They dropped her at my house and would pick her up after their family visit.

I wondered if either of them could fix my TV. It was time to go from the little screen back to the big one! I'm not exaggerating when I say I tried a hundred times to fix it. Two hundred.

Of course I tried YouTube! Watched a couple videos that would fix it or lead me in the correct direction. Nope.

When it came time to collect Rose, I crossed my fingers that the kid could be the answerman.

Picture mother and son and me, sitting on the end of my bed. Me barking out all kinds of password iterations. Nothing. The kid's thumbs were lightning fast. I couldn't keep up with the letters he typed out. Still nothing.

I repeated the password a dozen times. Still nothing. I started cursing.

Then I looked where I keep partials of my passwords. There was the card: Smart TV-bedroom. And a password.

I read it off to the kid. He'd entered it so many times that he knew what I'd done.

I had been reciting the 13 letter/number password and had transposed several of the letters! Come on!

How stupid could I be? The kid put the correct password in and voila! It worked.

He went even further and pulled up my movie accounts and added them so I'd never have to watch a movie on my phone again!

Feeling pretty stupid, I couldn't thank everyone enough.

Normally I think of myself as a hip chick with silver hair. Not then. I felt like an old whitehaired lady who couldn't find the light switch.

What was a girl to do? After Rose and company left, I stayed in bed and watched movies on Netflix for the rest of the evening. Because I could!