Oh, These Tedious Old Fools…
Back in the day–which is the days when my body didn’t hurt, didn’t make unwelcome noises, and when I stood in front of teenagers all day — I loved to bring to life all the characters of the texts we would study. I was my own one man show English teacher extraordinaire.
At the beginning of my career it was proper to have “popcorn reading” as it was called — assign kids to read parts, or assign paragraph reading. I learned early on that the death of any text was having 98% of any class of teenagers read aloud. The day the music died, I took over the reading with a handful of really skilled volunteers — and remained so till my very last text was read 32 years later. I absolutely loved reading aloud to my kids. And, I was great at it.
It helped immensely that I had a love of the theatre, and it also helped that my minor for my bachelor degree also included drama. I had carefully curated all the voices for all the boys in Lord of the Flies, and the proverbial pin could be heard dropping in the classroom the day Piggy tumbled through the sky, and the symbolic end of knowledge. There was lovesick Romeo, and his sarcastic and whimsical friend Mercutio. The kids laughed at all the right parts of the cooks and the clowns and the jesters — built in comic relief before the tragic downfall.
I later added dark and angry Hamlet, and who could forget Iago, the villain of villains, motivated by self interest out to destroy the black Moor Othello. And of course Scout. Dear, sweet Scout from To Kill A Mockingbird — innocent and worldly all in one- learning that sometimes justice is not served as she watches her father Atticus and his infamous final courtroom scene as he represents Tom Robinson in the case against Mayella Ewell, the “white trash” of Maycomb County. Just to name a Few.
Perpend.
Last week while on the FaceTime ( yes I do put “the” in front of it) with my beloved daughter, I seemed to have become the one bumbling character who I delighted in portraying the most in my educational past — Polonius, King Claudius’ “trusted advisor” in Hamlet. Polonius was old, he talked too much, he mumbled and bumbled through much of the play, he was mocked. You know, the old white guy of the fourteenth century. Shakespeare did not portray him as intelligent, and his death came as no surprise with very little fanfare.
There I was, fumbling through some ridiculous two-step authentication for a Microsoft email that I now need to have for my mailout list I have generated. Well, I could not get it to work, trying to turn the screen around on the phone for Mackenzie to see my laptop. “Mom, just click the right bottom camera…. Mom your phone cover is on… take that off… (of course capturing my own loveliness in the process), trying to change the password that hasn’t been detected in a data leak on the dark web with other seedy degenerates — and with something “strong” that I could also remember…Macbeth’s witches “double double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble” in my head because I am the absolute WORST at technology, and I was getting angry.
This was already after a 10-minute lesson on how to transfer pictures from phone to laptop to hard drive. WHY it cannot just work as Google instructions say it should never fails to boggle my mind. It’s the trouble shooting that gets me everytime, and having to call Mackenzie just seems like such defeat.
And then she started to laugh. Oh she tried to cover it up but I could see her face laughing into her sleeve. Her shoulders were shaking and she was trying to look away… and provide directions of what to click and how to move this screen and that. She has tried to be patient with me for years now. To be fair, technology has never been my strong suit. I relied heavily on the IT people of the schools I taught in for my entire career, and I never pretended I knew more than I did. I never knew more. I started my career with the Gestetner that smelled something horrible and left ink all over your hands, and a TV that was rolled in on the “AV Cart.” Films were ordered once a month from the Canada Film Board. So the fact that I ended up with a Smart TV that could practically teach the students itself with the touch of my index finger is nothing short of miraculous.
And there it was. Me the bumbling “tedious old fool.” Polonius. How did that even happen? Once, I guess a long, long time ago in a world that seems to be getting farther and farther away from me — I was young. Hip. A delight.
Well I am still a delight. I digress.
I used to be in the know. The action. I could balance school, motherhood, cycle class, read intellectually stimulating books for my quick mind, and drink wine all the while tap dancing through my day. But now the tides have turned, and I am afraid the world of technology has left me depleted of even caring how I “ got here.” I am just acquiescing into acceptance of not caring.
My “smart watch” just tells time and tracks my steps. That’s about it. For at least two years now it seems an upgrade is needed. I have tried (and obviously failed) to achieve this upgrade, and now Apple and Bill Gates just want me to buy another one. Mackenzie asks why I even have it anymore because it is no longer “smart.” I feel the world has a lot of “not smart” these days and yet here we are. Do I need to talk into my wrist like Get Smart from the 70’s of my youth?
“The lady (me) doth protest too much,” because I simply no longer care. Do I really need to know all my sleep patterns, heart rate and whatever else? I am a 58 year old living in menopause. I can tell you my lacking sleep rate, heart rate, birth rate, bank rate, agitate — with no exaggerate. I need no fancy watch in my life.
And so as I usher in this new chapter of 58, I giggle with absolute glee that my daughter has at least 30 years yet in the workforce. That’s the payback I feel for her mirth of my lack of technology prowess. Git it done Gen Z girl.
Me? Semi retirement and all the joy of putzing around, serving breakfast to great people, a walk with the dog, summer pool afternoons, and wine o’clock is anytime I want after noon. Meetings are a thing of the past, as are morning commutes and northern snow storms. Now how’s that for smart?
Laugh away daughter, laugh away…
Colleen McCullough is the owner of The Virginia May Bed and Breakfast at Eagle Mountain Lake
