Cell phones have opened a bucket of worms. They vanish. They get dunked into hot steaming cups of coffee in beverage holders in darkened trucks. They slip out of side pockets into toilets. They get left over the weekend in refrigerated lunch boxes at work. My stories are endless, and they are true. I’d love to hear some of yours. But let’s go on to a related concern.
Is anyone else out there struggling with the challenges brought about when the aging process combines with new technology? Here is my latest story. Recently one of our phones did indeed vanish. This forced us to spend a hefty chunk of time on the phone the other night with our provider. When we finally broke through to an actual living person, I was steeling myself for some heavy vocal eye-rolling. That’s when Janine came on the line. This kind woman led us through the whole grueling process of changing numbers with nary a hint of “How dumb can these people be” in her voice. She laughed with us when we pushed the wrong keys and helped us reset and start over. Her humor and patience just never stopped. Unbelievably, we found ourselves enjoying the process, and when it was all over, we asked, “Where can we rave about you?” Her survey numbers from us will be off the charts.
So I’m wondering. I’ve noticed a sort of benign tolerance creeping into the voices of those who deal with me when I’m technologically fumbling. It might be something as simple as checking on a doctor’s appointment or a lab test, or perhaps a banking issue. It feels as though the younger generation is being trained to be gentle with us who are sliding into our 70’s, and I am grateful. I’m proposing a new career path called Geriatric Technical Facilitation. I for one could benefit from some TLC when I forget my own phone number in the moment. Anything for a kinder, gentler world.
