The Bird Dogs and the Bees – Part III of IV


We took the Interstate on the way back, and as we approached exit 13, cars lined the mile long off ramp and spilled into the left lane of the freeway.  As I surveyed the developing mayhem, I congratulated myself on a well-planned day. The Luke Bryan concert was gearing up for an all day country extravaganza, and I had taken great pains to avoid the exit that I normally take to and from town. There’s nothing quite so satisfying as the smug certainty that you have circumnavigated a couple of hours of deadlocked traffic. Please remember this statement for Monday’s segment.

I arrived at my sister’s house with the intention of watching a movie with Callie and then heading home. I strolled over to check the progress of my Apple products only to discover that one had successfully completed both a backup and a download while the other had kicked back on its apps and accomplished nothing. I hate procrastinating appliances. And why wasn’t it like its older brother who did everything when told and in a timely manner?  This little phone had obviously been switched at birth because no mobile of mine would dare look me in the face and tell me Backup Incomplete. Hadn’t I given it specific instructions and four hours to get this software cleaned up?  No shammy cleaning for this little device later on.  He’d be lucky if I let him out of my purse again before daylight.

So close, and yet, so far away

I checked my iPad and discovered that only one of my 70+ pictures had descended from the cloud. How frustrating. Why was this so hard?  They’d been sitting side by side for hours; how long could it take to move them five millimeters?  I picked up my phone and shook it like a salt shaker over my iPad, but no luck. Thinking it needed higher elevation to activate the cloud, I struck an Avengers’ pose with my fist and phone high in the air and waited for transference.  Or maybe a superpower from Iron Man who never seems to experience technology glitches. Have you seen the movie in which he walks along while robot hands peel intricate pieces of futuristic armor from his body?  I can’t even convince the copier at school to collate and staple without ending up waist-deep in its bowels, pulling out scraps of paper from slots H through EE and wiping toner out of my eyebrows.  So with technology travails such as these, I hung around far longer than I’d intended, trying to coax pixels from one screen to another, and ended up on duty when Callie took the call after 11pm.

Arch nemesis from the planet of Xerox

© 2012 – Traci Carver


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