Jewish World Review April 30, 2004 / 9 Iyar, 5764
When tech support shuts down … Easy for kids, hard for Mom and Dad
We lost all tech support services for our television set last
Monday. That's what happens when you depend on family.
Thanks to our son, the one who knows how to rig the television to
the VCR, a DVD player and sometimes the video camera, it takes two remote
controls to navigate the system. To turn anything on, you have to grip a
remote control in each hand like a six shooter and fire. It's like Marshal
Dillon facing off against a band of cattle rustlers at high noon in Dodge.
And that's just to get to the Weather Channel.
I mentioned to the husband that the sound was coming through the
VCR with all the definition of an air-raid siren. "Can you fix it?" I asked.
"I don't know how to fix it," he said.
"Well, where's that techno son of ours? He can fix it," I said.
"Not anymore, he can't" the husband said. "That son of ours said
he wasn't answering any more questions about how the television works after
Saturday and this is Monday."
"Tell me you'd kidding," I said.
"Nope. We're on our own."
We looked at each other and swallowed hard.
As parents, deep down, we knew this day was coming. The day our
kid would leave us high and dry, the day we would have to distinguish a USB
port from a parallel port on the computer ourselves, the day we would have
to figure out text messaging on the cell phone all alone, and the day we
have to remember that to get to the VCR you have to push TV/ON on the
little remote and then hit 00 and click the little button in the far left
corner of the big remote. We knew this day was coming, we just never knew
it would come so soon.
"He said he'd gone over the remote controls with us for the last
time and that it was time for us to master the technology on our own," the
"Well, what's he done, outsourced himself to India?"
"Guess we'll know the answer to that when we get the next phone bill."
I pointed out that we didn't have these operational problems with
the television until the kid began upgrading our technology with assorted
equipment he acquired at college.
"True," the husband said, "but let's not be hasty and overlook the
fact that we've made some fine upgrades as the result of the kid moving
from dorm to dorm, apartment to apartment and roommate to roommate."
"You're right," I said. "I'd almost forgotten that we traded our
microwave for a newer model he stored in the garage."
"Yes, and it was just the color you'd been wanting."
"I know," I said. "And don't forget the toaster. Can you believe
we have our very own four-slice? Plus a brand new a junior George Foreman
grill. If they ever all leave home, it will be burgers for two!"
"Well, don't let on that anything is up," the husband said, "but
this morning I saw a portable phone with caller ID built into the headset
in a box in the garage. It's in our bedroom on your night stand as we speak."
"Great!" I said. "But that still doesn't fix the television"
"I'm making progress," he said. "I've muted the sound by
activating closed captioning and can now move from C-span to the DVD player."
"No VCR, no other television stations?"
"Nope," he said, "but look at it this way. We no longer have to
ask what's on television."
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© 2001, Lori Borgman
JWR contributor Lori Borgman is the author of , most recently, "Pass the Faith, Please" (Click HERE to purchase. Sales help fund JWR.) and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids To comment, please click here. To visit her website click here.
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