2:42 p.m. - 04.13.2003
Joyce vs Technology
Today my mom decided to join the 21st Century and asked if I could teach her how to use a ...*drumroll*....ATM machine! It went horribly. I'm such a bad teacher.
Technology = 1, Joyce = 0
First of all, we used a drive-thru ATM machine. Sometimes these can be annoyingly hard to manipulate even for the most experienced of ATM users. All of us at some point angle the car too far away to reach the money, or we sit too low to reach up and put the card in the slot. And the pressure/spotlight is ALWAYS on when there's a line of cars waiting. You try to do the world's fastest ATM transaction of all time - whereas others belly up to the machine like they are about to take out a mortgage. And sit there for the appropriate length of time to make such a transaction.
Well, today my mom's nemesis was the sun. And she took it all very personally.
Sometimes when the sun hits an ATM screen just right - it's as good as useless - you can't read a word. Well this is what happened to my mom. At first she wanted to abort the lesson entirely. But I talked her down and we continued with the lesson, Mr Miagi style.
My mom is a cash whore, but when we're out I try to get her to use her bank card. I've been coaching her on how to interpret the graphics on all the various machines where she is required to slide the card through on her own. I've shown her how different symbols indicate if the numbers go to the left, or the strip needs to be facing a certain direction blahblahblah.
Well the ATM machine we went to was ancient and all such directional markings had faded away. This freaked my mom out. She didn't understand the concept of trial and error. I told her to just shove it in there multiple ways until the machine accepts it. She couldn't understand - but her second try accepted it so we carried on.
Now came the sun on the screen.
Joyce: "What does it say? What's going on? Why is this happening to me!?"
ME: "Mom! Chill. Just press 'English'. You want to do your transaction in English."
Joyce: (hysterical) "But which ones English?! I can't see anything."
ME: "It's just the sun mom. The row of buttons on the right side - second one down. Good."
She improvised well and tried to make the screen dark with her hand by blocking the sun - but being in a car we were too low and a little too far away.
To spare you the details, the rest of the transaction was her asking "Now what?!" and me saying "First row, third button. Now the second row, first button. Now punch in the amount to withdraw. Do you want a receipt?"
It was harrowing there for a few minutes but we made it through and she was beaming about her first dip into the technology pool. I would consider this a great moment of awakening for her. I mean, she does own this kick-ass computer with broadband - but aside from my usage - it's just a glorified Solitaire machine for her. But now she owns ATMS!
Or so we thought.
We then drove to Bruster's for a celebratory ice cream treat. On the other side of town. As we pulled into the parking lot my mom queries, "What about my ATM card?"
Me: "...."
D'Oh! I failed her miserably as a teacher. Any ATM teacher worth his salt would have said, "Now wait for your card. Don't forget your card." I guess I just assumed it was a given. I mean, it's a given, right?
So a mad dash back to the other side of town yielded no more card. We came home and she called Bank of America to freeze her account. Poor mom. She's been feeling withdrawn, old, and confused ever since. And it's only been thirty minutes. She keeps damning herself and how she just isn't ready to make the leap. I think today may have set her back to the stone-age.
***
In other news, I've made a new decision. When I find myself in situations that call for light, polite applause - I'm going to start snapping my fingers instead of clapping. I'm shooting for a whole Beatnik revival thingy. Nobody snaps anymore.
***
I read once where Mark Twain was born when Halley's Comet was passing overhead. Later in life he declared that he had come into the world with the comet, and was going to depart the world the next time it came around. Sure enough, the next time Halley's Comet passed through - Mark Twain passed away.
Well, I'm afraid I may have a similar connection. You see, the summer I was born was the summer that 'Jaws' was released in theatres. My mom went to see it while pregnant with me and she says that it scared her SOO much that it induced labor and shortly after I was born.
From then on - without fail, if we see something Jaws related, she mentions to me the fact that, "'Jaws' brought you into this world you know." Yes, I know.
But secretly, I'm afraid. Mark Twain-style, does this mean that if a remake or rerelease of 'Jaws' ever came back around, am I to leave with it? I hope not! ...but then again...seeing as how this is an unlikely event - maybe this is my sign of immortality!
***
Sometime when I walk past my mom and she is working on one of her crossword puzzles or something, I pause a moment to give her a little shoulder rub. She deserves it. But I only like to do it very briefly, on my own volition. When she starts asking for more it becomes a bothersome chore. And if I'm going to do it - be happy that I'm doing it. But no - she starts giving me directions, "Lower. Lower. No higher. A little to the left." I usually say screw it and walk off. I was just trying to be nice.
But one time it got disturbing. She said, "Oh that's nice. Massage my Dowager's Hump." And I busted out laughing. "Your what?!"
"My Dowager's Hump. You know, on my back." I needed clarification on that one. She said it was a real word and that I should look it up if I didn't believe her. I was thinking it was some medical term, but there it was in good ol' Merriam-Webster's. Dowager: prounced like 'Dow' in Tony Dow, and Wager is like the wag of a dog's tail. Dowager is defined as " a widow owning property or a title from her deceased husband. A dignified elderly woman."
So basically it's the term for a little old lady's hunchback. Which my mom isn't and doesn't have. Her mother has one - so maybe my mom is just anticipating where her's will be.
In light of her ugly run-in with technology earlier today, maybe I'll give her Dowager's Hump a good rubbin' tonight! What are sons for really.
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