Wired

My journey from regular person to wired geek began when I was stranded at the Schipool Airport in Amsterdam.

In 2010, a volcano in Iceland with the impossible name, Eyjafjallajökull, disrupted air travel in Europe in an ever-widening arc from April 15 intermittently until May 17^th.

In a traveler’s Catch 22, approximately 3,000 souls were stranded in Schipool unable to leave the secure area without a boarding pass to return. No boarding passes available, as flight after flight was canceled.

The number of disgruntled tourists quickly overwhelmed KLM customer service and soon blonde pony-tailed airline representatives were advising the stranded to go online and rebook themselves.

Go online.

I didn’t have a computer with me. I sit in front of one so much at home, there was no way I’d lug one around on vacation. I’d left the laptop at home on purpose. Silly me.

Airport officials opened the internet café to free service. Every teenager among the 3,000 immediately sat down to update their Facebook page. When I finally got a turn, at least I was familiar with the internet. Not everyone was. I helped a woman in tears navigate a bus booking site. She had never interfaced with anything or anyone online. Welcome to the New World, Mrs. Unfortunately being net savvy didn’t help with European websites refusing to accept US credit cards. When my new friend left to board the bus, all I could do was wave, bye.

We finally abandoned the airport and flung ourselves into Amsterdam which, it turns out, is not such a bad place to find oneself stranded.

Once I got home from my extended European vacation, I looked for a handheld something or other capable of accessing the Net without weighing me down like a laptop. Did such a thing exist? That’s how naïve and unwired I was.

I didn’t want a whiz-bang phone. I don’t get that many calls. Neither do I make them. I like to be out of contact sometimes. Really, why is everyone on the phone all the time now?

I found an Apple product called the iTouch which looks like an iPhone without the phone part. It’s just a little handheld computer. Takes pictures. Stores pictures. Goes online. Keeps a calendar and address book. Fits in a pocket. I love that thing. I’ve been through three now. Last upgrade was for the better camera and slimmer build.

But it’s a slippery slope. The iTouch led to – what else – an iPad – which, I actually didn’t want and had no use for until I did and did. It was fun. It was cool. Displayed my photography portfolio like I was in a sci-fi movie. Carried that thing on vacation to back up vacation pictures. It didn’t fit anywhere and seemed always at risk, but it was lighter than a laptop.

Which led to the iPad mini. Oh baby, this little bitch is sweet. (Okay, I may have been watching too much Breaking Bad.)

The mini is a perfect size. Does the same stuff as the bigger version and you can pretend you’re on Star Trek.

The problem with the mini, as with the regular size iPad, is that it is almost a computer which causes it to almost drive me around the bend pretty regularly. Apple engineers don’t seem to have as much imagination as their customers. There are plenty of annoyed iPad users ranting about what if and why not online.

And I can access every rant, even if I’m at Schipool, Amesbury, Dublin or home.

Googled

Are you comforted or alarmed when googling a problem and find a million other souls are having the exact same problem?

Tripping at Mickey D's

I had a FALLING DOWN moment at McDonalds today.

FALLING DOWN is the 1993 Michael Douglas film about a laid-off tech worker who, frustrated by his life, goes on an armed rampage across LA. Called DEFENS from his personalized license plate, he’s tracked across the city by Robert Duvall’s character to a one on one confrontation at the Santa Monica pier.

In one significant scene, DEFENS stops at the local Whammy Burger and orders breakfast. Alas, it’s three minutes past breakfast time. He must order lunch.

He doesn’t want lunch. He wants breakfast.

His pleas about the customer always being right and three minutes, c’mon, fall on deaf ears until he pulls out a stolen TEC 9 and puts a few rounds in the ceiling.

Dude.

This morning after some shopping I felt the need for comfort food. I pulled into the drive through at McDonalds. It was three minutes to 11.

Ordered a Big Mac.

I’m sorry, a disembodied voice said over the speaker. I can’t take a lunch order until 11. I know it’s silly, but you can’t have lunch for three minutes. 

I’m trapped in the drive through. What am I supposed to do?

Can you back out?

There are two cars behind me and three in front of me. I’m trapped in the drive through and unarmed.

You’ll just have to pull through.

By the time I reach the window, I say, it will be 11. Can I order at the window?

Radio silence.

Or I could just sit here for three minutes. I think but don't say.

I’m going to say yes. I’m at the first window.

Well now. Not Independence Day but a little common sense coping is almost as big a surprise.

When I reached the first window, it was 11:02.

The young lady within seemed harried, taking orders through two speakers and one window. She apologized for making me wait. I told her, no problem, and that I appreciated her accommodating me.

In Dublin, we got in trouble at the Guinness brewery for not following the designated tour order, skipping one floor then wandering back to see what we missed. The young lady there was astonished at us but adamant we needed to move along. Mostly because she couldn’t drop the con that we had paid $46 for a free beer.

It was almost enough to put me off the black stuff.

Almost.


Back in America, Guinness is $4 and a person can be surprised by kindness and creative thinking in unexpected places.

Susie Homemaker

The kiddo came home from a hike with a hat-full of chokecherries and I was hit with a nostalgic homemaking wave.

I always thought they were named chokecherries because if you ate one, you'd choke. But, bears love them. Why should the bears have all the fun?

I decided to make syrup.

I ended up with four cups of juice and as many recipes.

I didn't know magenta appeared in nature.

And now I have chokecherry syrup. Three jars fresh - into the refrigerator. Four jars canned.

It tastes like black cherry with a slight tart finish. Very nice.

I'm also making an alcohol beverage I'm calling HOOCH because it sounds more native and less yuppified than fruit-infused liquor.

Two jars processing in the back of the fridge.

We'll have to check back in six months to see how that project turns out.

Touristas

 

We have out-of-town company so we took in one of the tourist sites -- what we call the Montana Boat Ride.

A tourist from Alabama struck up a conversation after eavesdropping on us telling our company about the houses across the river (American Bar) the forest fire remains (Meriwether.)

Alabama asked us did we live around here?

Yes. Across the way, down a long road.

Alabama sidled up to Dearest and said, "Do you folks have electricity at your house?"

Yep.

By a power line that comes to the house?

Yes.   No, by magic -- was what I thought but didn't say.

Alabama wanted to know because his cell phone didn't work here.

Then Mrs. Alabama made her husband return to his seat and "stop bothering those folks."

Since Dearest and I hold the world record for the most frequently lost, bumfuzzled and pathetic tourists in multiple countries, we are always kind to tourists visiting our area.

No matter how tempting the comic possibilities.