I try hard not to be an old lady!
By which I mean, I work at staying open to the changing world around me, making it a point to view the world with interest even in the midst of amazement. I take care to refrain from criticizing change just because it is . . . well, change. Just because the world has come to be so different from the one I grew up in.
My daughter, my daughter-in-law, my grandchildren, younger friends, all keep guiding me gently through multiple bewilderments. Especially my daughter. Especially the bewilderments that come with social media.
I am on social media primarily because my presence there reminds my readers that I’m not dead, that I’m still producing those rather old-fashioned things call books. Truth be told, though, one of the marks of my old-ladyness is that other people do my posting for me, a service I am grateful for.
But occasionally I do post something myself, especially birthday greetings. It’s one of the pleasures of social media to be reminded of birthdays and to be able to send my greetings so simply. I’ve even learned how to pull up a pretty background to accompany my Happy Birthdays. And the first time I managed to do that, I can tell you I was proud!
Standing so far outside today’s popular culture has its hazards, though, and every now and then those hazards catch up with me. Recently, when I sat down at my computer, Facebook reminded me that it was my son-in-law’s birthday. Of course! I thought. And I fired off a Happy Birthday. Then I went looking for a background to highlight my message to someone I care about.
I found one. The world in which the images float is brown, but not an unattractive brown. And perhaps, I noted, brown is more fitting for a man—in a very traditional way—than the usual pastels. The floating images against this backdrop are brown, too. They look like a cross between Hershey’s kisses and the curly top of a soft-serve ice cream cone.
Perfect! I said to myself. Everybody loves chocolate!
And I clicked my greeting into life and went on about my morning.
Until my daughter called. “Did you know,” she said, “that you sent poop emojis to Terry for his birthday?”
No. Of course, I didn’t know.
And then, to add insult to injury, I had to ask her to take time out of her busy morning to walk me through the process of deleting my well-intended message!
Sometimes old-ladyness is just what it is, no matter how hard I try.
And how grateful I am to have a daughter to watch over and rescue me!