DEBORAH CORRAO / L’Observateur / March 6, 1999

I have now officially entered the computer age. My first PC was installeda week ago. All of a sudden I’m online, I have my own fax modem, my owngraphics program, scanner, CD ROM.

I’m already crazy.

As with most people, I have had to learn how to navigate certain computer programs to earn a living. But the computers I’ve worked on have not beenhooked up to the internet or even been versatile enough for me to experiment on.

I have depended on the kindness of a few friends with a little more computer savvy to design and print things up for me.

Thanks to my son, I am now on the internet and can email reasonably well.

But, as they say, I am “lost in cyberspace” when it comes to everything else.

My son’s patience has started to run out even faster than normal. And Isuspect that one or two of my friends have been avoiding me and my phone calls.

It’s scary but I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll have to hunker down and learn how to make my way through the maze of windows opening and closing and dialog boxes with nobody to talk to and help boxes that give no help.

Yesterday I went to Sam’s to buy books I thought might make the trip easier (I’m totally amazed that computers come loaded with programs that include no instruction manuals).

Refusing to think of myself as an “idiot” or a “dummy,” I selected a volume called “Windows 98 Simplified.” I thumbed through it quickly,noting the big print and nice color diagrams.

I also bought a box that cost $40 that promised to deliver about a quarter of a million graphics. Fortunately, the box came with a couple of books sothat I can see what I’m actually supposed to be able to do just in case I never can.

You see, the real problem is finding the time to dust off the keyboard and learn. I can count on one finger the number of hours a week I spend at homeactually unengaged in other tasks.

Most of the time, to be quite frank, I’m not home long enough to even de- activate the screensaver (which is the nicest underwater scene, by the way, with tropical fish swimming in a coral reef). I go straight fromwork, to pick up my granddaughter from school and chauffeur her to various activities. That accounts for four days out of the work week.And, of course, the weekend is spent digging out from the mound of laundry, putting gas in the car, making sure my checkbook balances and I haven’t made some huge mistake at the bank (my checkbook already refuses to balance with the figures in the money program I have).

But on the brighter side, I have a brand new CD player that plays Jimmy Buffett’s Greatest Hits while my hard drive crashes and a nice man who tells me when I have mail.

I know one day I’ll have to learn how to use all this expensive equipment.

But I’d rather be on a cruise.

Deborah Corrao is a reporter for L’Observateur

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