Recently, while reading the PC magazine to which I subscribe, I came across a comment that the technology being discussed was something that you couldn’t expect “your parents” to be able to understand. Now, I’ve been building my own desktop computers for many years. The only PC I ever bought off-the-shelf was my very first one, back in . . . good grief – the early 90’s! (This does not count, of course, the Vic 20, Commodore 64, 128 or the very first, a Timex Sinclair 1000 – those do not qualify because none were a “PC” – an IBM PC or clone. Laptops also don’t count.) I’m of the age to be that author’s parent, but I can somehow muddle through the technical subject and handle it. But so what?
I don’t know. Maybe I just have a different perspective now, but I’m getting awfully tired of this inclination to deprecate senior citizens as doddering old fools who can’t handle modern society and are technologically stuck in the 60’s (or earlier). This is called “ageism” and sjust as tiresome as racism. I have a sense of humor, but when you start to become the butt of all jokes, it wears thin after a while. Are there older people who are incompetent, either or both physically or mentally? Of course there are. Do seniors have an exclusive claim on that? Hell no. Just check out some of the “reality” shows that reveal many young people as vapid, empty-headed goons or goon-ets. There’s a bell curve to pretty much everything. Let’s not treat everyone like they are at the bad end of that curve.
A special note to advertisers. We are a large part of the market and when you insult us, we remember. When you direct all your advertising to young people, we are alienated and more inclined to find alternative sources for your products that have the sense to include senior citizens as part of the overall market. When your product apparently can only be used by good-looking, hard-bodied young people, there is no reason for us senior citizens to take your product seriously. In spite of such bias, we seniors still buy and use technology.
Now, if I could only find my buggy whip I could get the hell out of here. Oh, wait . . . “Hey, son! How do I shut this damn electronic typewriter off? And what am I supposed to do with all this typing anyways?” I guess I’ll have to let him figure that out. I’m too old and stupid.