The late-adopters and the restless digital generation

Oldie: a hush-hush term for stuck-in-a-time-warp peeps who are late-adopters or become late without adopting. PHOTO| FILE

What you need to know:

  • Daughter: “Did you have computers while growing up?”

  • Dad, inwardly: “Most definitely. Nick ‘Computer’ Odore. That was one bada** boxer.”

  • Daughter: “Do you know what a joystick is?” 

  • Dad, inwardly: “In our days only teachers had joysticks. These brought untold joys to teachers, but stings to our backsides.”

Oldie: a hush-hush term for stuck-in-a-time-warp peeps who are late-adopters or become late without adopting.

That is this digital generation’s definition of Joe Soap and Co. Sometimes fate conspires against us, making these digitals to prove just who is  dawdling in the information crawler lane. 

For instance, recently Pudd’ng accidentally touched a button on the decoder’s remote control. In the process, she removed all our TV channels. Me? I was clueless.

And then? Baby girl touched some random button. Magic happened. Even with this fluke, she nicked the bragging rights: “I’ve returned the channels.”

Aha, encore!

 Computerese: Pudd’ng attends computer lessons. Which makes her think that her father is a Neanderthal…

Daughter: “Did you have computers while growing up?”

Dad, inwardly: “Most definitely. Nick ‘Computer’ Odore. That was one bada** boxer.”

Daughter: “Do you know what a joystick is?” 

Dad, inwardly: “In our days only teachers had joysticks. These brought untold joys to teachers, but stings to our backsides.”

 TV land: Our children are more informed than we were at their age. That is a given. Back in the day, all we had were radios. If one’s family was “blessed”, a black-and-white wood-panelled telly — we called them zebras — graced the living room. 

Fair question

TV-related questions were few and far between. Our curiosity started and ended at transistors. Sometime back, my daughter shot, “How do things reach the TV?”

Fair question.

“They’re transmitted through the airwaves and then we get the signal through the aerial,” I replied and was glad when she left it at that. 

To give Pudd’ng credit, at least she does not suppose — like I did — that there are little folks living inside the idiot box.

 Easy Eighties: We were also blessed with a Sanyo transistor radio. It was our timepiece, rendezvous, obituary, educator, informer, entertainer. Just to name six. Our TV has FM stations installed in it, but it seems they are merely bells and whistles. If you tell our daughter to switch off the TV and turn on the radio, she will think you are joking.   

If it is music, Pudd’ng likes listening on my phone, with one warning from Dad: “Touch nothing.” Give a digital child a gizmo and she will fiddle with it and make the manual — and man — look like a complete dumbo. Baby girl once readjusted my laptop’s Control Panel. Took me agonising weeks to figure things out. Uh-uh. I do not take chances.

Still, these children need history lessons. One time we saw walkmans on TV. “Is that a small radio?” Pudd’ng asked. 

“It’s not a pocket radio,” I corrected and, even before I took her to the Easy Eighties, Digital shot, “What’s a pocket radio?”

Man, where is a time machine when you need one? 

Blonde moments

 Blonde moments: While doing supper, Pudd’ng asks, “Dah-dee? Can I ask you something?” I reply in the affirmative, sensing that I am on to something.

“In the sky when aeroplanes fly, are there bumps?” 

Baby girl has a point: air pockets. Although, the way she puts it makes it sound, um, blonde.

Just goes to show that children are children, whether they are so-called digital or generation Xers or not. Blonde moments are no respecters of generations.

 Hard question: Nowadays Pudd’ng is full of questions. Anything goes. Which means I must be ready to answer, or answer. This time it is about my laptop. I let her “use” it after she has done her homework.

“Dah-dee? What happened to the games which were in your laptop?”

I tell her that the techie who came to repair it deleted them because they were corrupted — explaining what that means — and that he put new software. Knowing what the next question is, I explain to her, best as I can, what software is. I also tell her that there is such a thing as hardware, explaining what it means. Then she throws a curveball, which comes with a no ha-ha proviso …

“Is that the reason we see many shops written, ‘Hardware’?”

 Repping for the radio: Sometimes Pudd’ng’s homework gives me a sneak peek into her creative streak. Other times she tries to squeeze answers from me under  pretence. 

Kiswahili Ziada. Jumanne 18/03/2014. That is the header. This Tuesday, she has been asked to write 10 sentences concerning the radio. Here are excerpts from my brainy baby, of all things, repping for something which she gives a wide berth …

Redio yetu inaitwa mambo tele kwa vile hainyamazi. Translation: Our radio is called newsy because it never shuts up.

Dad, inwardly: “Like, really?”

Inatuambia wazee wametoka Githurai. Translation: Our radio tells us that the oldies are from Githurai.

Dad, inwardly: “Girl, who you calling oldie?”

 Sanyo Radio: It was our timepiece, rendezvous, obituary, educator, informer, entertainer.