Planes, Migraines and Insensitive Asshats
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Pushing Buttons, On The Facebook

It's official, my parents are now on the internet. Or, at least, the 20 minutes of what I was able to show them Sunday night, because it took my husband Garth (not his real name) 2+ hours to actually get them online, which (to folks older than 20) is 2 hours, too long.

Apu on Facebook
A few weeks back, after introducing my father to Facebook, Apu immediately began sending messages to family in Hungary.

It was not the introduction to the internet my parents were expecting -- especially, after everyone and my brother insisted that my parents really need to be on the internet -- and my father also suffers from "Let's see what happens when I push THIS button" (he's a criminal in elevators) which is pretty much never a good thing, especially on the internet.

First I showed them how email works, although my mother was the director of the purchasing department for a large packaging corporation (a.k.a. my cosmetic hook-up) pre-retirement, so Anyu was already pretty familiar with it.

"What's that button do?"

As far as I know, short of sitting on one's hands, there is no cure for LSWHWIPTB and, combined with the distraction of shiny, pretty, blinkies on sidebars, it can be downright debilitating.

"What else would you like me to show you?"

My father is now on "the Facebook" and, as far as I know, he hasn't broken the internet, which really shows a LOT of restraint on Apu's part and, well, I'm pretty proud of him for that, too.

"Did you show Papa how to leave a comment, or respond and *like* a wall post, on Facebook?"

[blank stare]

Aaaaaand, that is why I don't teach people how to use the internet...for a living.

"Papa also mentioned something about starting a blog, like you, too."

Although, I do suspect it may have been a defense mechanism on my part.

"He said, to tell people when they're not doing stuff right."

I'm not quite sure if the internet is ready for Apu.  Then again, it will certainly keep him occupied -- especially, with winter and cabin fever just around the corner -- and perhaps even keep my father from pushing my mother's buttons, or vise versa, right?!?

I'm sitting on my hands, just in case.

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