Hello. My name is Beth Ciotta and I’m a techno-goober.  I have no brain what-so-ever for electronic gadgets and gizmos.  I flirted with an anxiety attack when I first had to learn to use an ATM machine. Of course, now I have no problem punching the appropriate buttons to get cash. Then again, I’ve had a lot of practice.

I own a cell phone that has some pretty nifty perks, except I can’t figure out how the camera function works and I don’t know how to text. Shocking, I know.

I own an electronic pocket organizer of some sort. Nothing so fancy as a Palm Pilot or Blackberry, but still, I never use it because I can’t figure out how anything works. I own an MP3 player. It does all sorts of cool things. All I know how to do is to play the radio and the songs my husband uploaded for me.

Speaking of my husband, he’s the exact opposite of me. He loves gadgets and gizmos and is a wiz at anything electronic.  Thank God.  I’d be staring at a frozen computer screen or calling the Geek Squad every few days, if it weren’t for him. Any glitch whatsoever with my laptop sends me into a panic.

I rarely watch TV when my husband’s not home. There are so many remote controls and hoozits connected to our big screen TV, I have to call him just so he can remind me what remote does what. Whenever I try to navigate the system on my own, I invariably screw up some program he’s trying to tape.

You’re shaking your head, aren’t you? Yes, I am one of those people you’ve heard about who can’t program the VCR or the clock on the microwave.  If I cared more, I’m sure I’d put more effort into learning how to operate all of these various gadgets. With practice, like the ATM machine, at some point I’d become more proficient. After all, I did wrap my brain around Microsoft Word and a couple of other computer programs, although I admit to only knowing the basics.  

When I see the majority of the population living their lives via Blackberry, Blue Tooth, IPod and—the one I don’t get at all—Texting, sometimes I feel like a dinosaur.  But then I run into the occasional person, someone around my age or from the generation before, that doesn’t have a clue as to how to type a resume into Word or to Google MapQuest or to place an order on-line, and I feel like a brainiac. I can help you with that!  

So I guess, I’m not a dinosaur, so much as a throwback to a simpler time. I get along just fine without a Blackberry. Doesn’t mean I didn’t express interest in owning one, to which my husband wisely pointed out—“If we got you one, you’d never use it.”  That’s because I’d become intimidated and frustrated long before learning how to use it. Ah, yes. He knows this techno-goober well.