A decade ago, when I named my first wireless network Cry for Help, I was more intent on keeping technology at arm’s length than bonding with it. I didn’t understand even the basic equipment I owned and constantly worried that it would just stop working, for no apparent reason.
I thought computers devoured data for sport, to boost their AI quotient in preparation for some future robot uprising. Continue reading
There’s a little publicized provision in US Postal Service rules that can protect you from your own stupidity. It gives you the chance to recall letters you sent, by accident or impulse.
You have to act fast, of course, because you can’t recall something that’s already been delivered.
I’ve never seen the Postal Service advertise this option. And none of the people I asked in an unscientific, informal survey knew they could recall something they’d mailed.
So riddle me this: At a time when the volume of First-Class mail is falling-and the Postal Service claims it needs junk mail to survive-why isn’t the Right to Recall the focus of a nationwide ad campaign? It’s the single most significant advantage postal mail has over e-mail. Continue reading
If technology is as good as I think, then why am I always so tired?
The problem isn’t lack of sleep. It’s lack of dreams.
Sometimes, technology fails. And when it does, it ends up in the trunk of my car.
There’s a hard drive in there, along with a keyboard, a CD-ROM drive and a cell phone. There are two motherboards—the one that originally failed as well as the defective replacement I received from the manufacturer.
The broken products are all wrapped and packaged, ready to return to the manufacturer. But here’s the problem. The same technology that allows me to track a shipment in real time by phone or Internet precludes me from scheduling return package pick-up. Continue reading
The good news: Zillow dropped the unrealistically high value on my home. The bad news: Zillow dropped the unrealistically high value on my home. Continue reading
Back in the dark, dark pre-Internet days, I ran into a boy I knew from high school. The last time I’d seen him he was working in sales. So I was somewhat surprised when he told me he had become a roofer. I was even more surprised when I asked him where he learned the trade, and he told me, nonchalantly, “from a book.” Continue reading
The smartest man I know is having an almost impossible time transitioning to a new email provider. He can’t figure out how to use the auto-suggest feature, so he constantly sends messages to the wrong email account—or, occasionally, the wrong person.
But he’s not alone.