Shutdown

Posted on 4 Sep 2006 at 14:38

 

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Jennifer McRobbie is constantly amazed at the number of people who actually live their lives free from gorgeous gadgetry and all things tech-like.

It's a difficult thing. How do you tell people you're a technophile? And how do they react? I've been at dinner parties where conversation has literally ground to an embarrassed, foot-shuffling halt when I've produced my GPS device. To be fair, this is because I live in London, where long and detailed monologues on How To Get Places are conversational rituals undertaken at the start and end of every social gathering. Pulling a TomTom out just as Jocasta's paean to the Rotherhithe Tunnel hits its peak is akin to spilling red wine on the carpet, asking for ketchup or punctuating every course with a hearty belch. Just not on.

It's easy to be lulled into thinking that everyone likes gadgets. Everyone and their dad seems to have a mobile and an iPod - even if they don't know how to work them - and there is some assumption that we are all Internet-savvy. Indeed, such is my delusion that I am often thrown off-guard by the pen-and-paper brigade: 'Right, so I'll email you the document and you can amend it when you get a chance.' Matter of fact voice: 'Oh, I don't have email.' Silence. 'Oh, you don't have access to your account at home?' 'No, I mean I don't have an email account. At all. In fact, I've never sent an email. Why don't you post the document?' '...Post?'

When meeting new people, I try to introduce my geeky facet slowly, gauging the atmosphere along the way, perhaps dropping in a reference to a few draft IEEE proposals, or subtly peppering my speech with TLAs (three-letter acronyms) for good measure. If someone giggles at my husband's 'Jesus Saves; Buddha does incremental backup' T-shirt (wish I was making this up), I feel we may be on solid ground. If someone uses a lustful descriptor like 'sexy' or 'baby' for any rechargeable object, I go for broke and flash my vCard for all it's worth.

I mean really, is there anything better than meeting another gadget obsessive? That dawning realisation. That first harrowing 'discussion' over what's better, Illustrator or FreeHand. You both have a Palm? Finally, someone to beam your business card to. Someone with whom you can share a wry, knowing smile if you say 'there are already a million monkeys on a million typewriters, and Usenet is nothing like Shakespeare.' Someone, essentially, who can feel your pain and share your joy when you recount tales of problems, problems diagnosed and problems solved.

And if they're a PC user, all the better. You get to spend several hours listing all the reasons Macs don't get viruses, are easy to use and will make you a better lover. Once, to a table of blank faces, my husband related his excitement over meeting the designer of Arial - the typeface, not Ariel, the washing powder. Thrillingly, a man we had never met before leapt from his seat and exclaimed that he had met the designer of some other notable font. Their combined joy was ten times that of a 'normal' meeting Wayne Rooney or Kylie Minogue. At the same time.

But what if you're the only person in the pub who uses his computer outside of the office? What if you find yourself alone in a wilderness of Windows-jaded technophobes? Alas, this is all too common. I have lost count of the number of times eyes have glazed over when their owners realise that I am not a columnist for Vogue or Heat or Grazia but for the UK's top Mac publication. If I had a single-track iTunes voucher for every time someone asks me what an underscore is when I'm reciting my email address, I'd have sufficient credit to fill a brace of iPods. And if I have to have the conversation with friends one more time about how Wikipedia works I may have to go and sit in a darkened room inhaling Patchouli oil cut with New Mac smell until I calm down.