In article <
13361...@sheol.org>, Wayne Throop <
thr...@sheol.org> wrote:
>::
djh...@kithrup.com (Dorothy J Heydt)
>:: I dunno, but my husband has operated on that principle his whole
>:: life. He thinks "I am a rational man. My wife is a rational woman.
>:: Therefore, when I choose to do a thing that is according to reason, I
>:: don't have to TELL her; she will KNOW what I have done because that's
>:: the rational thing to do." [...]
>:: The commonest example is when we're out somewhere together (shopping,
>:: e.g.) and he decides he's done and goes out to the car without
>:: telling me [...]
>:: I've adapted to the point where, after searching around for him for
>:: maybe five minutes (longer, if it's somewhere huge like Home Depot) I
>:: will go out to the car, and if he's not in it, go and search some
>:: more. Because he might easily have decided that the rational thing
>:: to do was to go drool over drill bits or something.
>
>Aye, there's the rub. You two aren't privy to all the same information.
>You don't know what will-o-the-wisp has drifted across his peripheral
>vision to distract him, or just how boring the secton of store he's
>standing in is, etc, etc.
>
>This is where technology comes to the rescue. Cellphones.
He has a cellphone. He doesn't always carry it; when he does, he
frequently has it turned off (not vibrate, OFF, to save the
battery). This drives our daughter up the wall, because her
generations assumes that EVERYbody has a cellphone and is ALWAYS
available to chat.
I don't have a cellphone, and when occasionally called on to use
on, I can't figure it out. There was one memorable hour a couple
months ago: we were driving to some playground or other for
grandson's fourth birthday. Hal THOUGHT he knew where it was.
He didn't, and being a man, he drove for miles and miles out into
the boondocks and past several city-limits signs before
acknowledging that maybe he didn't know where the place was after
all. Meanwhile, I had been saying at intervals, "Why don't you
pull over someplace and call Meg and find out where it IS?" He
finally pulled out his cellphone and threw it into my lap and
said "YOU call her!" and kept on driving far far away. And I
couldn't figure out how it worked. There was more back-and-forthing
that I won't relate, and finally he turned around, drove more
miles back, found a parking lot, and called her.
I've sometimes thought it might help on occasion if I had a "granny
phone" that did NOTHING but telephone and had really simple-to-
understand-by-the-older-generation instructions. But I have yet
to find one simple enough.
That way,
>you could either share the extra information, or sync up after the fact,
>without actually plodding all over the store. I've actually done that;
>phoned my wife while we are in walking distance (but not sight) of each
>other. In fact, it's a common thing at airports and such. You don't
>have to wonder where the rational place to wait du-jour may be.
>You just call and sync up.
See above.
>
>If a cell phone is too intrusive, you could just tag him with a GPS locator.
>I hear folks in wildlife management have practically painless versions now.
>(Actually, one of the easiest ways to accomplish it would be to plant a
>cell phone with a GPS locator on him... maybe disguise it as a wristwatch,
>if he uses one of those.)
He has a GPS locator slung to his belt. He was using it recently
when we were driving around Alameda (which is an island, one to a
few feet above sea level) trying to find out just what the
altitude of a particular location was. This, it turned out, depended
on which satellite it was talking to and where said satellite was
in its orbit. Depending, we got figures everywhere from 40 to
-40 feet.
This being the case, I feel no particular optimism that it would
serve for locating him in the bowels of Home Depot.
>
>Eventually, you just place a blogcam (or whatever first-person streaming
>web POV equipment is called these days) in his glasses. You know, when
>it gets inexpensive and user friendly enough.
I anticipate being dead by then.
(Actually, when I contemplate the fact that if I were dead I
would NEVER HAVE TO BABYSIT A FOUR YEAR OLD AGAIN, it doesn't
sound half bad.)