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Send My Conscience Home in a Taxi

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Is It Possible Forcibly Induct Someone Into the Amish???
Popping Ears
Man, my dad is such a Luddite... Well, no, Luddite implies a certain level of decision... Perhaps technological incompetent would be a better description!

I usually have to help him through anything even remotely complicated related to his Mac or his iPhone (boy was I annoyed when his Uni bought him that). The low point was probably when he asked me to come over to resize his netscape window a few years ago. Then there are the times when some really obscure setting has changed on his computer, and he swears blind that he never touched it. Or his wireless network is not connecting because he's turned off his wireless - again, swearing he didn't touch anything. I suspect he just clicks "OK" on any dialog box that pops up, without reading them. Or just as likely he reads them, then has no idea what it's talking about and clicks OK anyway.

I was over there tonight diagnosing what turned out to be a genuine problem - looks like their wireless phone is interfering with their wireless internet router, which is definitely not supposed to happen. Not sure which of the bits of hardware is to blame.

While I was there, I had a conversation which went like this:

My dad: Do you want to see my new camera?
Me: Sure.
[He pulls out a rather nice new Nikon Digital SLR]
Me: Nice! How many megapixels is it?
My dad: I don't know.
Me: Well what did they tell you when you bought it?
My dad: Nothing about megapixels. What are megapixels?
[We eventually find something in the manual that tells us it's 16.9 or so megapixels]
Me: Wow, that's good!
My dad: What does it mean?
Me: Well, basically it's how many pixels there are in each picture.
My dad: Wow that is good!
Me: What kind of storage card did you get with it?
My dad: What's a storage card?
[I slap my head. Popping open the camera I discover that not only are both the SD slots empty, but so is the battery compartment.]
Me: You're supposed to have a storage card to save your pictures on. It's basically useless without one. Did they give you one at the shop?
My dad: Let me have a look. Is this it?
Me: No, that's a dust cover for the view finder.
My dad: Well, that's all they gave me.
Me: Where did you get this?
My dad: At the shop.
Me: And they didn't mention that you'd need a storage card?
My dad: No.
Me: It's basically useless without one! Where's your compact camera, I'll show you want I mean.
[He finds his other digital camera. It's an eight year old Canon with a tiny weeny little screen. It also has huge storage brick in it, all of 256 Mb. My dad had never seen it before, he just gets the pictures off the camera by plugging it straight into his computer.]
Me: OK, what you need is something like this, only smaller, to fit into this slot here.

I ended up giving him the address of Computer Parts Land in North Melbourne, and writing a detailed note for him to take in - Sandisk SD HC 16Gb, and looked up roughly what the price would be. No doubt I'll get a call later which will be "I've got the card, now what do I do with it? *slaps head*

It's a wonder how he gets by in the world. He just retired as an assistant dean from Monash!

Anyway, I've made him promise to take me with him when he goes car shopping soon, so he doesn't
repeat his mistakes. In about 1982, he bought a lemon yellow Holden Commodore station wagon, in the brief period when they fitted them with a shitty shitty 4 cylinder, which was barely able to drag the damn whale around!
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