Finding the geek within

When I was a child spring came with the sound of breaking glass, my father swearing at a storm window and then my mother taking over. He was brilliant and would not read directions. She was brilliant but knew that there was a way to make things work that required following directions. I'm not brilliant but I'm my father's daughter. In school my grasp of anything mathematical was so tenuous I was "invited" to leave Algebra and found myself in a class full of students identified as "struggling"encouraged to speak of feelings and color instead of being forced to pay attention to process. Thus the lowest grade possible on my SAT & GRE Math scores while my English and verbal are nearly perfect. Thus years of seducing anyone who offered to fix anything, years of ignoring red lights on dashboards, refusing to read the manual, ignoring the map, smiling at strangers while kicking my flat tire, charming and wheedling and pouting my way into the stony hearts of gifted techies.

Me as a Buddhist babe.

Well, the party's over. I'm no longer a babe. Well, possibly I'm an over-fifty babe but I certainly no longer want to be the babe who has no idea how to manage her web site. Now, full disclosure, I married Mr. Fix-it. He reads owner's manuals, he knows which way the thingies turns, he takes things apart and doesn't panic and decide to close his eyes and count to ten and make them disappear. By the way, that doesn't work. When things break, he fixes them. It's astonishing except I think I married my mother.

So, the website. Pretty. I can deal with words. But then I need to edit things and I need to optimize and I need to add Pay Pal. My babe web creator (a stone cold babe) finds a lack of techie competence less then attractive. She isn't charmed by my announcing I can't remember any passwords. She actually suggests I keep a comprehensive list of them and remember where that list is located. When I do my poutie thing she looks somewhat grossed out. I am not cute. I am self-indulgent and ignorant.

So, I try something different. I go to Google Ad-words and I bring up an old ad. It's not what I need now and it's also not activated. I am completely confused by the directions I am given to make this ad work.  At first I go kamikaze. Like my brilliant father, I start shoving things at the problem. I type various passwords, I divulge my credit card information, I decide to leave the page altogether and work on my novel because I'm so gifted and who cares if I ever earn any money? But then I notice there is a place to ask for help. Google Ad-words will guide you through the whole process if you're willing to listen to the nice guy named Joe who answers the phone. I have to get a new e-mail address and at first I balk. "I'm so overwhelmed," I whine to Joe.  Wisely, he stays quiet. I relent. Yahoo gives me yet another password. I whine. Joe doesn't take the bait. We work together and he actually makes sense. I understand him.  I say something vaguely intelligent about key words and Joe praises me. I preen which he can't see over the phone but who cares? Oh Brave New World where I actually have my passwords written down! It's hard to stop being a dumb bunny but age brings a certain dignity and an awareness that you can't always depend on the kindness of strangers.
www.mollymoynahan.com.