My sister asked me to set up her new “Talk and Text” phone. Being “Entry Level” I could easily manage it.
She asked me how often she should charge it because, in her words, she doesn’t want to “over-charge it and get blown up.”
Now, I’m not sure of the figures – maybe because they don’t exist – of how many people have been blown up by an over-charged mobile phone. I’m guessing “none.”
But all my family have this bizarre irrational fear of technology. They say they won’t use a computer because they don’t know how to and, they may “blow it up!”
Well, unless the computer comes with some pre-installed Semtex and a detonator button next to the Return Key, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.
Otherwise, A&E Departments would be filled with people with exploding laptop injuries, combing shards of glass from their hair and removing USB sticks from their noses.
I find it strange how being the youngest of the family, I spent my early years learning everything from my slightly older siblings – mainly how to use cutlery safely, without the fear of it sparking and exploding in some weird metal fork/spoon spaghetti twirling friction accident.
Now the roles are totally reversed, and I must try and teach them everything.
It’s like they’ve been hiding in an underground bunker for years, avoiding all technology from DVD players to DAB Radios for fear of being blown up. And yet, on November 5th, they’ll stand in their gardens and happily light exploding fireworks.
Weirdly, they’ll also see absolutely no danger in combining water and electricity and will gladly fill and use steam irons, foot spas and electric kettles.
But I seem to be setting up, demonstrating or programming everything else for them as if I secretly work for the Curry’s Knowhow team. Obviously, I draw the line at installing their gas cookers in case I do, ironically, blow them up.