Speaking of cars and driving – which I explore in my Heart of the Matter post today – sharing memory lane recollections of safety lessons from my papa. I had an a-ha. I realized the driving issues of today would make my dad cringe. When he passed away in 1997, cell phones were becoming less of a novelty and the hazards of driving whilst talking were emerging concerns. His #1 on the road worry? Distracted drivers. Imagine what he’d think these days. Pop over to my HoTM post to learn more and to check out some vintage photos reminiscent of my dad’s workplace and the fun I had learning about big trucks and driving safely…. big rig style.
Good golly. I’m only a paragraph in and I’ve detoured (wink!) already. Let me get back on track (wink #2).
I had to get a new phone recently and it’s been three weeks of ick as I’ve needed to reset all my STUFF. The one thing I hadn’t done? Sync my phone with my car. As I drove to an event this week on a rainy evening (fully pitch dark at 6:30 pm – gah!) my phone buzzed and I realized I hadn’t set up Bluetooth in my car. So…stupid me…yep…I fumbled with my phone, disconnected the inbound call and somehow managed to make two butt-dial Facetime calls to innocent, unsuspecting friends all while motoring along with traffic at 45 mph (Kathleen and Laura – I’m still sorry!) I had my eyes on the road (sorta) but I was distracted enough to know I needed to get my phone and car talking to each other.
I thought about my dad and how disappointed he’d be if he happened to be peering down from Heaven, watching me “drive” in a less-than-fully-focused manner. I figured I had five or ten minutes to address my issues as I parked my car, arriving early for my meeting. Good, good. How hard can this be, I thought? The last time my phone needed attention – to ‘make nice’ with my car – the hubster Paul just did it for me.
I’ve learned over the years how tempting it is to let our dear daughter (Delaney) or Paul just do the things that they know how to do intuitively. Truly – anything involving electronics or mechanicals. They have skills (and patience) that I will never have and it’s such an indulgence to simply hand them whatever’s pesky and say, sweetly, “Fix, please.” They do. They have. And I’m grateful that the hubs taught her well. But I learn nothing in the process. So, sitting in a dark parking lot, I was determined to do this here phone thing myself.
And I did! It only took me a few minutes to sit and consider the settings on my phone and then contemplate the parallel set-up that was needed in my car. When I reached a prompt on my dashboard that said “twinning to device” I figured I was almost there. A couple of steps later with a code exchanged between my car and my phone and I was in business. Hands free! Car speaker recognizing the new phone.
I was doubtful, so I texted the hubster and said, ‘call me’. And when he did, and the audio came through my car speakers perfectly, I cheered (for myself). I knew he was smirking on the other end. You can’t hear a smirk, but I could see it. Know what I mean? “I fixed my phone! It works in my car now.” And with a little sing-song attitude, I added “And you don’t have to do it…ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”.
I was proud of myself. I’m still proud of myself. I’m certain I took the longest route possible to get the synching done, but I done did it. On my own.
When hubs said, “Good for you” in his trademark deadpan voice I knew something more was following. He paused for a second and then said, “That’s you – if you push enough buttons, eventually you get lucky.” Ohhh…. he’s lucky I’ve got a sense of humor and that I was fifteen miles away. I laughed, too. He wasn’t wrong. When in doubt – no matter what the troublesome tech is, my solution when I get mad, sad and intolerant is to randomly try everything. Push all the buttons. And yes – sometimes a few at the same time. His inner engineer abhors my brand of “problem solving” and I know enough to understand. All those circuits, wiring, chips, etc. must scramble when they see me coming. No……not her!
This morning I’m celebrating little victories. Vicki victories. Small as they might be in the scheme of things. Even so, I suspect my papa’s smiling. Or smirking.
Vicki 🥰
Victoria Ponders 
Leave a reply to Ally Bean Cancel reply