I’m going through The Change. You may not want to hear about a woman in her 40s at the precipice of this monumental transition, I realize. I’m sure you have no interest in the sweaty, hot flashes or the dramatic mood swings or the sleep loss, but I’m going to tell you all about it anyway. It has been a horrifying experience, and I’m sure that I’m not the only one who has suffered the physical anxieties of changing from a PC to a Mac. It was time, but I was ill-prepared.
Gabriella decided that I needed a new computer. “Yes, Dear,” was all I could think to say. I couldn’t argue with our resident technology expert. She also decided that as long as I was going to get a new computer, I should have a Mac. How could I refuse? First I was afraid. I was petrified… Aren’t I too old for new tricks? Was I a right-clicker to the core?
I chose to face my fears and embrace the Mac. My father brought home an Apple II + when I was a wee lass, and we enjoyed hours of DOS fun playing Lemonade Stand and Temple of Apshai. Surely, transitioning to a Mac would feel like coming home.
The MacBook Pro sat in my house for over a week untouched. Gabriella would come home from work every day, take one look at the boxed up computer and sigh. “Please leave me alone. I will continue to ignore it until my One to One session at the Apple Store.” We would not discuss the matter again.
Ah, but one hour with Mac Trainer Tim confounded and overwhelmed. It was more than my little head could handle. “Are you on about your small head, again, Deborah? Such a complex you have!” I’m telling you my head is practically picayune. Just the other day, I went to see my optician for my annual check up. You know that part where you rest your head on the chin rest and lean your forehead against the top of the contraption to read letters through the vision-tester-thingy? The doctor had to give me a chin-booster because no matter how much she adjusted the vision-tester-thingy, my eyes could not reach the lenses without the help of the chin booster. That’s the cheapest facelift I’ve ever had. badum bum
And if I weren’t humiliated enough from the chin booster, I had to relive the pain when I picked up my new glasses I bought in honor of my slightly new prescription. Of course, the arms on the frames overshot my ears by a mile. Numerous adjustments later, we realized that the ear pieces were now so long that the glasses would not fit into the case. We opted for the oversized glasses case most likely used by seniors to store their cataracts glasses. Oh, the humanity!
I was wearing contact lenses when I went to see Mac Trainer Tim. It was not my vision that obstructed the brain in my teeny tiny head. To be fair, Tim presented the material in a straight-forward manner. It was my inner Beavis & Butthead that could not help providing subtext to my trackpad lesson. What’s with all the fingering, Mac??
“You can use 2 fingers to scroll up and down a page. Place your thumb and index finger on the trackpad and spread them apart to zoom in.” I don’t normally spread my thumb and index finger apart in public, Tim, I thought. “Use 3 fingers together and swipe left or right to move back and forth between web pages.” This would be considered foreplay, Tim. “With 4 fingers,” he added, “swipe down to see all your open windows.”
The urge was too great, and I could not suppress the voices any longer. “Tell me, Tim. What can I do on this Mac of mine with my fist and some lube?” “That’s an entirely different lesson,” he replied. I like Mac Trainer Tim. “I’d like to sign up for that one,” I thought but decided to leave it for the time being. There’s always next week’s session.
I’m still not entirely comfortable with this new fangled MacThingy. I know once I dive in and play with my fingers for hours, I’ll be happy. Isn’t that so often the case?