Tech Savvy
Preface 1:
I do not claim to be a computer whiz. Like at all. I have a basic understanding…and a good friend in Google. Oh the things you can learn by typing things into that magic little box! (P.S. Don’t type in “saucy” for images. Apparently my version of the definition is different than Google’s.)
Preface 2:
Mr. Bossman is well traveled. His favorite destination is grand ‘ole Paree. He loves to expound on it’s virtues, wax eloquent about his many trips, and randomly drop French phrases and stare at me as if I suddenly learned to speak French in the past 3 minutes.
Preface 3:
A friend of mine recently introduced me to Keren Ann who is amazing and who sings partially in French. So naturally I assumed that my boss might like her.
Preface 4:
My boss is hopelessly confused by technology. He refuses to text because “it takes too long”. He brags about how he can make playlists in iTunes. (Yes, and you are ambulatory too. Everyone applaud!) And I have to show him how to copy and paste at least once a week.
The Story: (you can image where this is going I’m sure)
I hand the CD to my boss and explain (briefly) who Keren Ann is. I verify yes, Keren Ann, not Karen Akers. I then think to tell him.
V: “Oh, and you can’t play it in your CD player. It has mp3 files on it.”
B: “Well, then, how do I listen to it?”
Clearly he’s puzzled by my rapid fire explanation of an mp3 file.
V: “Just download it to your iTunes and listen to it on your computer.”
(Sighing mentally. Because I know, of course, this isn’t going to go well)
B: “What’s iTunes?”
I stop and just stare at him for a second trying to wrap my brain around the question.
V:”Umm. You know the program you use to put music on your iPod?”
His face relaxes at the recognition of a word.
V: “Well, just open your iTunes, put the CD in and it should ask you if you want to download it to you iTunes”
(sidenote: the man uses the term “download” for everything. If he prints a document he says he’s “downloading” it. I’ve stopped trying to correct him.)
B: Staring at his computer screen. “Do I have iTunes on here?”
V: I sigh. “Yes.” (I had just opened it last week to explain to him how he could change the order of songs in an album. He had put a new novel in his iTunes at home and the chapters were backwards) I point at the icon on his screen. His first double click fails to be quick enough. “Here. Let me do it.” A few clicks later, my teeth clenched, the melodious sounds of a woman’s voice filters through his speakers.
I exit the room to him gleefully translating her French titles into English.