It’s remarkable what technology can teach us about ourselves, especially when it all goes wrong. When we’re at our lowest. The lowest of the lows. Down deep in that great digital pit of despair. Drowning in bits and gigs and bandwidth and lots of other strange names that you know guys with goofy eyeglasses once came up with: “Yeah, this will mess with their minds. Let’s call it a ‘Flamingshnagel!’”
I hate those guys!
I learned a lot about myself this past week after my daughter permanently locked herself out of her iPhone by accident – yes, you read that right — and then the Phantom of the Modem wreaked WIFI havoc and killed our Internet. Lowest … of … the … lows! Two tech trials that tested my mettle and gave me a glimpse at who I REALLY am. It was ugly, and here is what I learned:
• I’m really bad at spinning bad news. When my daughter locked herself out of her phone after changing her passcode, but mis-remembered the number, she went on to exceed the number of tries Apple allows you before they lock you out completely. It’s a security technique that doubles as cruel torture for teens. But no worries. All you have to do is reset the phone and then restore it to the most recent backup. You know, when you last plugged it into a computer to save all of those precious images, files, contacts and settings? You know, the thing you’re supposed to do at least monthly? You know … you did do that, right? Because if you don’t, you’ll have no choice but to deliver this kind of report to a distraught 15-year-old: “So, the good news is, I was able to find a backup. Pretty good news, yeah? Pretty impressed with myself. Now, in ever-slightly worse news … uh … it’s a backup from 2017. But … BUT, that’s better than 2015, right?” No good way to sugarcoat that one.
• I’m not good under pressure. After working on her phone for hours, and then realizing not only was I making no progress, but potentially making things worse, I broke into cold sweats, became delusional and started screaming, “WE’RE GONNA DIE! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!” Someone threw a bucket of water on me and set me straight by shouting, “Get it together, man, and fix my phone!”
• I really don’t know what I’m doing. I might think I do. I might convince myself of that fact. But I’m one good step away from getting locking out of my own phone pretty much every other day.
• 15-year-olds desperately need their phones and/or WIFI. Take away either (God forbid around the same time!) and they are reduced to … well … folks who you can carry on an actual cogent conversation with. In fact, without the safety blanket of a phone or computer to monopolize their attention, you can learn all kinds of things. Like, for instance, their eyes do actually look up and make contact with yours. I didn’t even know what color her eyes were before last week.
• Snapping, “Unacceptable!” at a cable/internet customer service rep on the phone may sound ridiculous and like something fuddy-duddy from the 1930s, but … it works!
• I will believe anything I read on the internet. The more far-fetched and ridiculous the solution, the more I’m likely to try it. Especially when I’m desperate and out of ideas. Talk sweetly to the phone to convince it to accept the passcode? OK, sure. Put it in the oven at 375 degrees with a sprig of rosemary and a sprinkle of lemon? At this point, what do I have to lose? Offer $1 million to Russian hackers found on the Dark Web who promise to also uncover government secrets in your daughter’s videos of the cat snuggling with the dog? You know, I could actually see that as possible!
• I will do just about anything to help my daughter. I will stay up late into the night. I will scour the infinite depths of my computer looking for lost backups. I will scream “Unacceptable!” at a cable service rep so she can get one of her online assignments in. And I will feel incredibly horrible when I don’t come through and fix it all – what I have always seen as my real mission in life. Because, isn’t that what dads do? In the end, I did get the phone back to its mid-2020 setup, and a new modem broadcasting bits and flamingshnagels all over the house. I even got a cogent conversation with a little eye contact, which was maybe the biggest win of all.