I’ve developed a theory about technology in general, and electronic devices specifically. While the giants of the industry are continuing to commit huge amounts of money to developing new stuff, which is great, they also employ thousands of people to find ways to disrupt what we already have. That way, we can’t just be happy with our old computers, tablets, and phones, which are working just fine, thank you very much. These deeply disturbed “engineers” need to make them “more fine”. Or they’re pushing us constantly toward that cliff of buying new stuff. A friend of ours, who is like me only about five times more terrified of technology, had to replace her old computer. I went with her some years ago to purchase a new one, which is a bit like having Archie Bunker for tech support. Anyway, the sales person was showing her all of the latest features with a great deal of enthusiasm, which wasn’t contagious. With a look on her face of a mixture of fear and confusion, she asked, “Why doesn’t it look like the old screen?” I finally pulled him aside and told him he was trying to explain nuclear weapons to Joan of Arc. Buying new hardware is scary for me too because, not only does everything look different, but now I’ll have to “install”, “download” (or “upload”), transfer, reset, upgrade, back up and try to remember all my passwords. Right now, the computer is telling me that my cloud is full. I have no idea what to do, except perhaps let it rain a bit to empty out? We are at the point where, when I call my daughter for tech support, she can tell by my tone that I’m above my management level, and it isn’t going well.
Anyway, I thought I might get a jumpstart on this year’s taxes. Step One is to assemble the necessary tax forms, so I went to the retirement system website. I put in the username and password. They told me they “didn’t recognize the device”. I’m not the CIA, for God’s sake, and I don’t have facial recognition. It next asked me for a clarifying “identification question”. OK. The street address for Her Ladyship in the 3rd grade. I put that in, and it told me that was “incorrect”. How can it be incorrect? She lived at that street address until she was 24. I closed it out and started again. Same result. Not OK. It will either be a rather terse conversation with someone by phone or I’ll have to wait until the paper forms are mailed out – sometime around Valentine’s Day.
Why does technology continue to thwart me? It does, you know. At every turn. Just when I think that perhaps I’m gaining skill and confidence, it finds new ways to slap me down. I had a rhythm going with my coffee shop app. Every two hundred points, I got a free beverage. Just what I needed. Then, some Byzantine mind redesigned the rewards feature. It quadrupled the number of points to get stuff I don’t consume, like avocado toast or a box of donut holes. And then, they’re not even free – they’re discounted. That’s like giving me $100 off SCUBA gear. Never going to happen.
My bank is doing that too. I use their bill pay feature, which is most convenient, but can also be annoying. When I pay a credit card, they send me a nice note saying they’ve received my payment. Great. I’d hoped that was the case. But my bank, my own flesh and blood, never tells me when they’ve received my payment. No pat on the back for a job well done. I have to check the balance to see if it’s gone out. But they do send me terse alerts like, “You have an unpaid bill, due . . . .” usually a week or two out. Of course, it’s unpaid – it’s not due yet. I’ll pay it on time, but why give them my money early? And frankly, your reminder is a bit insulting, like I’m some kind of deadbeat. I do keep track, and you have a public relations person who designed that reminder feature that should be publicly flogged for suggesting otherwise.
And what is the deal with the “verification numbers”? They’re telling me it’s for added security and for my protection. So, if they don’t recognize my device, which is the same computer I’ve been using for many years, it would seem to me that their “device recognition” system is faulty. I’ll take a picture of it on my phone and send it to them. I’ll include myself in the photo, so they’ll know it’s me. But no, they send a six-digit number to my email address. That’s wonderful. I have to shut down the website (for, alas, whenever I just leave it, it shuts itself down) and get the number from my email account. I then reestablish contact with the website only to find that the verification code has expired, and we do the dance again and again. Such fun! Or, I can have the verification sent to my phone, which I have to run to get. I get half of the verification number before the phone screen goes dark and I need to power it up, put in the code, another 6-digit number, and try again.
I used to save all my usernames and passwords on the computer. It was a foolproof system until the computer died and we had to replace it. Now, as the experts tell us we should do, I write them down in a little notebook, carefully concealed in my office. Of course, the experts also tell us to change them regularly. My little notebook has more cross-outs and arrows than the operating manual for the Hindenburg. Like the technical question, where I know what we’ve answered, there is sheer impertinence in telling me that the answer is wrong. Of course, it’s not wrong. And how did they, those experts at the website, not recognize my computer? I only have the one. It’s not like I’m the CIA, running under the radar. It’s the same one I use each and every day.
I got a nice note from the bank that the mortgage tax statement is ready online. So, I went to the site to print it. The first time, it told me that it wasn’t ready after all. No apology for the false alert, just a statement that perhaps I’m too early. It is early yet, so I’ll give them a pass and wait with my usual patience and calm dignity. Except, I don’t understand why it takes weeks and weeks to get tax forms up and posted. With all of the technology, and thousands of folks writing tax software, shouldn’t the tax info that we need to file be ready within like, a day or two? I’d give them until January 5th or 6th, because that’s the generous sort of person I am. Shouldn’t it really just be a matter of pushing a button and all the numbers fall into the nice, neat boxes that the IRS forms provide for us? That makes sense to me. My tax forms should be available right after the last payment in December. If you can buy a car online, and it pulls up at your house a day or two later, can’t the tax information be the same? I don’t understand.
Anyway, I’ll continue to wait until everything is ready – the forms are in the mailbox (I should probably use an anonymous post office box in Vermont, just to add an extra layer of security, but then I’d have to drive there to pick them up.) and I’m able to dig up my username and password from my little notebook. Whereupon the software company will tell me that I really should change them. Just a moment – I need to update the notebook. Best wishes to all my faithful readers on a Happy Tax Season while we wait to celebrate National Technology Day.
I'm Thinking...No! 