A Techno-Amish Paradise

by Kathy Flake

Technology annoys me. It’s so--technical. I generally avoid anything with a dial or plug: if I ever join my New Age buddies in past life regression, I’m sure I’ll discover I was Amish in my previous life.

But put a 400 megahertz computer in front of me and suddenly I’m a Mennonite--bring on the modern world! I get downright evangelical with a keyboard and mouse. I seem to have developed an addiction to the Internet. I’m infatuated with email. And the last time a Word upgrade was announced I think I briefly experienced rapture.

I remember our first Mac, charmingly Minimalist with its cute little nine-inch monitor and no hard drive: to access a word processor, you needed to slip in a disk. Even then, my Inner Perfectionist was entranced by the ability to instantly–and endlessly–edit what I’d written. And when Word’s new features included the click and drag method of rearranging text--surely Eternal Bliss was underrated? And then there’re the Tools: I can set up Word to autocorrect my hero’s name, or catch my bad habit of capitalizing the first two letters of words, which makes for a very nice working relationship. (It even knows how to spell "Judgment," which, oddly, seems to be missing an "e.")

When it comes to prose, the thought of composing without a keyboard leaves me cold. I even write notes to my daughter’s teachers on screen, then painstakingly transcribe them to notebook paper (so it won’t appear as if my daughter herself may have planned her own absence).

But recently, after hearing others reveal how their inner critics were silenced by the use of pen and paper, I decided to give it a shot. I dug around for a notebook and pen, found a comfy spot on the couch, and occupied myself clicking the end of the ballpoint. But the cursor never showed up on the paper. Finally, I gave up. I could barely remember how to form the alphabet, much less how to write a scene.

So, I’ve decided to forgive myself my little transgression from the Amish way. (At least I don’t have one of those brightly colored iMacs–yet!) I still panic when my cell phone rings, and I can’t even turn on the DVD player. My microwave is used so rarely I need a map to find it.

I am slowly warming up to some forms of technology. Recently I explained to my husband we needed a new phone: "Wouldn’t one with a cord attached be convenient? That way the receiver won’t disappear.

"And while you’re at Best Buy," I added, "a new laptop would be nice."