Move Over George Jetson

This past weekend our family cheered my sister on as she received her membership key to the ever-growing club of octogenarians.

Of course, I was there to welcome her, being one of the troops myself for almost 3 years.

Many of you are still far from birthday candle numbers equaling the requirements of a Disney light show; but for my sister and those of you who are getting up there, here's a sneak peek of what I've observed living in a turbo charged world with a speedometer calibrated last mid-century.

Let's start with the digital and computerized items that live in your home, you know...the ones that have names as though they were family members.

A word to the wise. Don't confuse their monikers like maybe you got away with doing when your own kids were growing up.

A recent example: not being familiar with a new refrigerator and needing ice for my drink, I pushed on a visual component resembling happy looking ice cubes, an option on a semi-circular control thing that was tucked into a niche on the freezer door. Nothing happened. I had the same result after pushing 2 more images. Maybe I am pushing when I should be pulling. At the risk of breaking the appliance while also giving thought that a warm coke might not be so bad, I had an idea!

Alexa!

Well, seems Alexa belong to a union and only takes requests involving the TV. I'm not positive, but I might have detected a tone of sarcasm when she said, "I'm sorry, I don't have that information." Almost like I should have known that.

So, I moved on to Siri and received a lengthy dissertation on how to fix a freezer machine. Memo to self...never ask Seri for the time, she'll probably tell me how to build a clock.

Finally, Google helped by suggesting a You Tube channel that would assist me in identifying parts on a refrigerator control board; but not before giving me the silent treatment for failing to properly address him by his title, that apparently is "Hey." That's ok, as soon as the guy on the video mentioned screwdriver, I was out anyway.

Moving on to cell phones.

I came from a generation when, for a time, operators came on the line, "number please." If you needed a taxi, you dialed a number, spoke to a dispatcher, gave your location and destination and waited for your ride.

In the time saving world of modern day, we have the convenience of apps. Mobile applications that can be downloaded or...maybe that's uploaded to our phones.

A couple of apps I've recently launched are Venmo and Uber.

Another word to the wise, if you have an exercise routine, start adding finger pushups. Take me seriously when I tell you, pudgy fingers are not your friend and can create vexing situations when entering data on a phone screen.

My adult granddaughter picked up breakfast for everyone when our family was at the shore recently. I wanted to give her money before she left on her errand. "No, grandmom, I'll text you when I get there and you can Venmo the amount. Venmo??

Ok, one of my daughters walked me through acquiring the Venmo app and but for her watchful eye, it would have been the very first time in my entire life that I'd ordered a $2,000.00 breakfast. Pudgy fingers!

Two weeks ago, I was going to a party. I prefer not to drive at night, so I decided to try Uber. Again,... the app downloading thing.

Once set up, I felt confident. I opened the app and took a look at my options. Well, this looks easy enough, I thought. Noticing that for an additional fee, they offered luxury rides, gave me a chuckle. I drive a Yaris, so no bougie cars for me. Besides, my trip was less than 4 miles.

I typed my address in the top slot of the app and from my phone contacts, cut and pasted my destination.

My Uber would arrive in 5 minutes. I was instructed to be outside. A follow up text advised me to look for "Tim" in a gray Lexus. Tim was two minutes away.

Lexus!! Did I somehow hit bougie after all? I began to think that my not quite 4 mile ride was going to equal the price of a cheap airfare to Florida.

Tim arrived in exactly 2 minutes as promised. I got into the back seat of his spotless gray Lexus. It was immediately obvious to me that Tim owned a very large bottle of cologne that he loved. We exchanged pleasantries, and we were on our way.

He went to the corner of my street and made a right, then another right. Humm, I would have made a left there, but Tim must know a better way. After making yet one more right, he stopped the car.

I sat there puzzled. We were parked in front of MY house!

"Tim, this is my house." "You just picked me up here." "Yes, miss, this is the address that you put in as your destination." One of those pudgy fingers must have slipped during the cut and paste action.

Ok, my mistake, pudgy fingers; but did this guy really believe that I requested an Uber ride in a Lexus, no less, to drive me around the block?!!!

No Queen's wave to the neighbors; no stopping off at the end of the drive for a peek in my mail box; nothing! Just a quick spin that strangely required the use of his GPS.

Tim advised me to reenter my destination after telling me that I'd be charged extra now that we were driving almost 4 miles. Well, at least the ride around the block was on the house.

Some of the most delightful observances I've made as an "80 something" is life can be an amazing ride around the block, full of new things to learn and laugh about. Make sure to give the Queen's wave at each turn.

This blog story is dedicated to my amazing sister who I am blessed to have held hands with for 80 years.

Happy Birthday Ronnie. You've made it all the way from 1943 to Orbit City.