, Newburyport, MA


October 3, 2013

A forgotten generation (sometimes)

You must wonder how and why I came up with a title such as this, and I really don’t blame you. But if you are in the senior category of your life, like I am, this title will have some meaning. Let me explain the best way I know how, OK?

Just the other day I happened to be a passenger in a 2013 vehicle and attempted to find the handle to close the door. After a thorough search, I had to ask the owner if the car had a door handle, or did I have to learn to use a computer to successfully close the door. Having got through that crisis, I looked at the dashboard, and it actually frightened me, with bells and whistles keeping me awake.

Having got through that, I went grocery shopping and attempted to read the price tags on products. The prices are sized for perfect vision. Upon leaving the store, sure enough, I couldn’t remember where I parked my truck and walked up and down, until a concerned shopper, realizing my plight, told me to press the panic button on my key. Having done so, I had to have help in shutting it off.

Arriving home, I decided to have something to eat, so I attempted to open a package that would require Mr. America to open. I looked for directions, but the print was invisible to my half-shut, blood-shot eyes. Having completed these tasks, thus far, I sat down and turned on the TV. I got, for a reception, “no signal,” so I had to call Comcast, asking a foreign voice what button I press on the remote. I don’t know what he said, so I hung up and pressed all of them and it worked.

I was watching “Judge Judy,” my kinda gal, and an ad came on, telling me to go to my computer and go on their website to buy a product. I thought a website was in the attic where lots of cobwebs are found, or find a dot com, whatever that means?

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