It’s true…SMH…it’s true. I’m an update-aholic.
My iPhone. My iPad. My Apple Air Laptop. My Amazon Fire. I can’t help myself.
I get excited to see what the update brings. The rush of something new. The disappointment when I click on “more” to only see that there have been “bug fixes” with nothing new to add to the interface, yet I helplessly click anyway.
Doesn’t sound like a big deal does it? Well, tell my wife and family that. From the historical archives of my family. It goes something like this…
“You up for an episode of Star Trek?” I genuinely ask.
“Sure,” they break into smiles.
I innocently turn on the TV and grab the Amazon Firestick, clicking the button to fire it up. All is calm, all is serene, all is right in the world. Then…
My family gasps! They scramble to reach the remote before my thumb sets the inevitable update in motion. The scene turns into The Matrix, their collective voices stretching through time and space, “Noooooooo!”
My brain clicks, my body arching backward, my left arm jetting outward for balance, my right hand–with the remote–drives toward the sky in an instinctual game of keep-away. My thumb mashes firmly into the center selection button, answering the endorphin-embracing update rush.
A wicked grin courses across my face. Turning my gaze toward my family in utter satisfaction, proud of my prowess, I anticipate their shared bestowals of approval and accolades of, “Well done father, well played, your skills are unmatched.”
Instead, looks of horror and befuddlement drill into me from multiple pairs of accusing eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” the words gush out from among the jury of my descendants.
My confident grin drops into a guilty look of shame. I have failed again. No Star Trek for at least 15 minutes. The silence smothers any chance of an ‘update victory’ from the room.
When I think about it, it’s really their fault. They know me. I’m getting older and predictable in my ways. They should have the power of “group think” to demand that someone other than myself control the remote at the onset of the evening’s frivolities. Again, not my fault. I am redeemed in my own eyes.
There, I feel better. Not my fault. The 15 minutes have passed. All is well in the world. Manly sigh. The Star Trek theme ringing in the background. My family is pulled into a galaxy beyond, boldly going where no updates are needed at the moment.