Technology, you’re a rotten little devil. Not most of the time. Often, you’re good and helpful and make the world a better place. Like watching cat videos on Tik-Tok.

But when you go wrong – like the other day when my computer died at work – you go WAY wrong!

It makes me long for a simpler time. When technology was less-advanced, but a lot easier to fix.

Or, it makes me wish that with all of its vast power and ability, tech could at least solve some of its own problems. Instead of always asking me to do it. Computers can crunch numbers with incredible sophistication. Pull up information from any part of the world in seconds. Display in incredible detail the depths of the known universe.

But the minute it has an issue, it starts spitting out non-sensical jibber-jabber in the form of tech-jargon and codes that require ME to look them up. Never remembering that IT is the designated searcher of information in the family.

It’s absurd, isn’t it? Like going to the doctor and he takes his shirt off and asks, “Do you mind looking at this mole? It’s turning black. Does it look serious?”

I’m setting two goals for myself: 1) Try to make $1 trillion by mining bitcoin on my standard-issue home computer, and 2) finally cut the cable cord. I want to do these two things because it seems like everyone is these days. And at my advancing age it is important to keep up with the trends and stay relevant. (Plus, learn some TikTok dances.)

But I’m also motivated by money. Because we all could use more of it, and right now, it seems like all of mine is going to the cable company. I looked at my cable bill recently and realized that I am paying what is equivalent to the national debt of Northern Macedonia. Each month! And I’m sure they at least have some kind hydro-electric damn to show for their money.

Me? I have 82,000 channels and only two that I use: Food Network and any channel with a show on that has “unexplained” in the title. (Someone really should start a whole network called “Unexplained” to capture the attention of people like me. It could be bigger than mining Bitcoin.)

Otherwise, I don’t use it. Actually, that isn’t true. I use it quite a bit as I scroll endlessly through the channel guide in a desperate search for something to watch. Anything with the word “unexplained” in the title. I’m like a thirsty man lost in a desert. Or worse, a zombie stumbling around moaning, “Must watch ‘Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.’”

But I’m slowly getting the hang of it. Slowly figuring out my new car, and kind of enjoying it.

All except for one thing. The worst part about EVER buying a new car: The Fear!

You know “The Fear,” right? The new car fear? The terror you get after you’ve signed the paperwork, dropped loads of cash, driven it off the lot, and then remembered one of the addendums to Murphy’s Law: “Any new car with perfect paint and no dents or scratches shall not remain in such a pristine state for more than 48 hours.”

It’s a rule of physics. A universal constant. Perfection cannot last. And the harder you try to protect it, the worse the event will end up being. Might be a scratch while filling up gas (had this happen once) or a rock hitting the windshield or a dump truck filled with cow manure overturning on you. (Pretty sure that is waiting for me.)

And knowing it’s coming – that horrible anticipation and FEAR! – is enough to drive you crazy. Within days of getting our last new car, a truck backed into us in a parking lot, crumpling the hatch and requiring an extended stay with the dealer. I spent more time in a rental car than the car I had just paid for.