The Internet was supposed to make our lives easier and more efficient. Maybe so, but it almost ruined Christmas and is moving ahead to ruining every other holiday — up to and including Groundhog Day. It has become THE source of evil in this house and is aided and abetted by retailers, the government, and any enterprise requiring forms to be filled out. At least we’re not in the U.S. and don’t have Obamacare to drive us screaming into the night. (As in many things, the idea is great. The execution, not so much.)
I knew we were in for trouble when, instead of lovely Christmas carols filling the house, we heard Crazy D filling the air with shouts: “Jesus Christ Almighty!” I somehow guessed he wasn’t blessing the Saviour’s birth.
“Ah,” Gill pointed out. It must be Crazy D trying to deal with the Internet.” And indeed it was. He was attempting to sign up for a bike race — trying to get a jump on the crowd by applying early to ensure himself a place. Now Crazy D is accustomed to dodging roadblocks when riding his bike, even if it means taking aim at treacherous (and questionable) paths, mountainous cliffs, icy crevices. He’ll plow right through, barely breaking a sweat. But the Internet was throwing him curves he couldn’t overcome.
When he got to the raging fist stage, we all tiptoed away to avoid witnessing the computer being thrown out the window. (The one good thing is that we didn’t have to worry about what the neighbours would think. They’ve already seen our dried up Christmas tree sail out the same window as we try to avoid needles shedding throughout the house. So a computer would barely raise an eyebrow.)
I know exactly how Crazy D feels. The Internet can bring out the rage in anyone.Case in point: before the holidays, I was trying to find a book on Amazon. They had it but delivery time was going to be two weeks. “But I need it now!” I yelled. I tried to cancel the order. Couldn’t be done. Both L’il Sis and I tried over and over again. At this point, L’il Sis suggested I try another site. (I think her main motive was that she hates Amazon and will do anything and everything to avoid giving them money. Even if it’s mine. And the inability to cancel the Amazon order had steam coming out of her ears.) Not wanting to appear ungrateful, I tried the other site. The order was placed, payment made and an ETA given. This was going to take longer than Amazon. “I could have walked to the publisher’s office in the U.S.myself and got the book faster!”, I moaned. “You see? You people have got me bamboozled into using the Internet and see what grief it brings? It’s holding me back!” I also worried that, instead of receiving one copy of the obscure book, I’d accidentally receive 394( one each for all the random keys I pecked trying to get some action) — thus boosting the sales to the author by 100%.
And so, when anyone here announces they are about to tackle some form, order something, or sign up for something–even if it’s a rare antibiotic that is certain to cure the virulent disease that we have contracted and will kill the entire family in three hours — I give them the stink eye and announce, “Over my dead body! Step away from the computer or I might just have to kill you myself.”