I sit at my table at the McKune Memorial Library wondering why I only have 7 subscribers to my blog. An older lady sits down and unpacks across from me. She’s a senior. Not a slow moving, slipper shuffling senior. There’s no evidence of a ‘walker’ with tennis balls on the back legs. She has a quick-twitch, slight of build, errand-running senior vibe about her exuding that aura of someone who wants things NOW. She totes a snappy laptop case. After ripping through several velcro pockets, she pulls out her gleaming white, 13″ iMac Powerbook. A granny with an Apple.
I continued to check email, shuffle files at will and pick through my RSS feeds wondering why everyone else had more than 7 subscribers to their blog. I couldn’t help but notice my table mate was having issues with her cutting edge, wireless mouse. The reason I know this is because she continued to thwack the mouse into the palm of her hand as if compressing tobacco in a pack of Marlboro’s. This was followed by the quick back and forth movement of the mouse on the table top. Thwack-Thwack-Wack. Shuffle, Shuffle-Rub. This went on for a bit and didn’t help her cause. I can only imagine the conversation she’s having with herself. Something like…
“My son told me if I buy an iMac I wouldn’t have the problems that P.C. users have. That man across from me seems to be doing just fine with his Microsoft driven, dark gray, non-shiny machine. Harumph!”
She must have migrated from the dark side, because she knew enough to reboot her laptop to (possibly) cure her hardware issue. Evidently there is no “restart” or “shut down” option on an iMac. This would account for the incessant opening and closing of the screen in order to shut off and reboot the system. Close Click Wait. Reopen. Close Click Wait. Reopen! Thwack, Thwack, Wack. Shuffle, Shuffle, Slide-Slide. I lost count after 4 such cycles partially as a study to remove myself from things that drive me nuts, but more importantly because I was preparing how all of this would find its way into a blog post – most assuredly propelling my RSS readership into double digits.
Alas my elderly iMac neighbor gave up. Maybe the thought of having to use the TOUCH PAD vs. her battery driven, comatose mouse was too much. The time had come to pack it all in. I wonder who was guilty of planting this Johnny Appleseed of techno-babble into her shiny mind.
“Gleaming white box. Cordless mouse. Harumph!”
With one last round of angry velcro she was gone.
