A Matter of Trust

Technology. It allows us to do many things quickly and efficiently. Still, I have trust issues with it. Or, rather, technology has given me trust issues with, uh, me.

At one time I would add up a list of numbers all on my own. No help from a calculator was necessary. Years ago a customer might come into the Shop and want 6, 7, 10 items, and I'd write out an invoice, add it all up, multiply the total for the sales tax, and Bob's yer uncle, land on a figure which I completely trusted. I completely trusted it because I could do basic math.

In my defense, I still can. Yet now that we have calculators everywhere, even on our cell phones, I have to pull the program up and do the math, well, I suppose mechanically. Hell, if it's one cutting tool I still get out the calculator to multiply the price by .06 for the tax.

I can still do the math. I'm still pretty good at it too. But I no longer trust me. I fear the mistake which might cost me or the customer money. Thanks, technology.

Low Tech

I ran into something completely unexpected during my travels this week. A hotel I spent a night in didn't have USB ports for recharging my electronics, the cell phone I always carry, my Kindle, and laptop.

Such amenities have become so common that I had not bothered to pack a three prong plug in adapter. Everyone has those recharging ports, don't they?

I'm not knocking the hotel, honest. Everything else was more than satisfactory. Then, too, they certainly aren't obliged to cater to my every whim, despite the capitalist dragon which stirs our hearts to entitlement. I simply never expected a lack of what seems to me a standard these days.

I got around such trivial issues because my techy things hold power for significant periods of time as well as with the use of car charging adapters. But I confess my initial reaction was, What? They don't have those?

But it isn't all about me, is it? That's twice this week I've had that lesson hurled at yours truly. I'm beginning to think it's a message.

The wonders of technology

Technology, huh? Sometimes I giggle about it, I'm so impressed.

See, there are these things called "apps" which you can "download" to your phone, however that is (I think it's magic), and apparently there's one for just about everything. My son even found one which acts like a remote control. Now I can sit in my bedroom and turn the channel and adjust the volume of my TV right from my cell. I'm so impressed with that that I giggle while I'm using it.

Can you imagine future phone conversations? "Sorry I hung up on you, I was changing over to Fox Sports Detroit." Or maybe you might go to turn down the TV and instead turn down the volume on your call. "Hello? Hello? You still there?"

Telephones. They're not just for conversation anymore.

The telephone television remote

Technology, huh? Sometimes I giggle about it, I'm so impressed.
See, there are these things called "apps" which you can "download" to your phone, however that is, and apparently there's one for just about everything. My son even found one which acts like a remote control. Now I can sit in my bedroom and turn the channel and adjust the volume of my TV right from my cell. I'm so impressed with that that I giggle while I'm using it.
Can you imagine future phone conversations? "Sorry I hung up on you, I was changing over to Fox Sports Detroit." Or maybe you might go to turn down the TV and instead turn down the volume on your call. "Hello? Hello? You still there?"
Telephones. They're not just for conversation anymore.

Marty beats parking technology

Technology is supposed to help, and generally it does. But while it did inadvertently help me this past Saturday morning, it did its boss no favors.

I spent most of last week at a trade show and was trying to get out of the parking structure at my hotel a little before 6 on Saturday morning. There was no attendant, but I had the pasteboard ticket a machine had issued to me on Wednesday when I parked. The rate was $22 per day so I had $66 ready, and there was a self pay mechanism at the exit. So I slid the ticket into the machine. It's almost immediately spit back out at me, like when a Coke machine won't take your single, and a shrill mechanical voice says, "This card is unreadable."

Heck, what do I do? I check to see that there are no creases or blemishes on the card and try it again. "This card is unreadable", I am then again told. Shoot, what to do now?

I see a button on the touch screen which instructs me to push for help. So I push it; several minutes pass, but no response. I push it once more. Another several minutes, and still no one responds to me.

I really wanted to get going. It was the last day of the show and I wanted to park as close as possible to the convention center so I could leave as quickly as possible when it ended. But after a third attempt at hailing some actual human being to come help me I was ready to bust through the gate.

Then I saw a button which said, lost ticket. It'll probably cost me an arm and a leg I thought, but figured I could fight that battle later. I simply wanted to leave. So I press it.

After a series of gentle humming and hawing the screen says: Total $33 dollars. So I take two twenties and feed them into the bill slot; the machine spews seven bucks back at me and the gate opens. I'm on my merry way, finally. But my question is, do I contact the garage company to tell them their own technology and lack of customer service cost them thirty three dollars, or just figure I'm up on them and it's their own damn fault?

Yep, I'm leaning towards the latter. What would you do?