The TouchPad Widow, Part 2

In last week's “The TouchPad Widow, Part 1," Dan and I had decided to buy one of the discounted TouchPads HP was trying to sell off. After Dan made the purchase online, we eagerly awaited the arrival of our new tech toy.

It showed up on our front porch a few days later. Dan thought the TouchPad was so awesome that he hardly made eye contact with me for a week. I, on the other hand, was pretty grossed out by the greasy fingerprints on the screen. Apparently, greasy fingerprints are part of the wonders of touchscreen technology.

Now Dan's nose is always in the TouchPad. It's kind of like trying to talk to these young 'un, Wired Generation teenagers, always texting or . . . texting - I don't know what all these newfangled electronic gadgets are. Twittering, tweeting, chirping?

The other morning, I was in the bathroom, fixing my hair. Dan stood in the doorway, "listening" to me prattle on about very important (I'm pretty certain - very important) issues. Then I noticed he had the TouchPad in his hands.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah . . ."

"When you don't make eye contact with someone while they're talking, it makes them think you're not listening."

He didn't respond.

In an attempt to entertain myself, since it appeared no one else was going to pay attention to me for a while, I started randomly calling out things like:

"Stop playing with your TouchPad!"

"Are you playing with your TouchPad again?"

"Ooo. That sounds a little naughty!"

Still no response. Not even an eye roll or a furrowed brow.

One afternoon, Dan found a weather app. He was so excited that he had actually found a compatible app that he spent all day looking at it.

He would peek into the office (where I was hiding from him and the TouchPad) and announce, "Accuweather says it's 64 right now. There's an app for that."

Later that week, I was deciding whether or not I wanted to ride my bike to my doctor's appointment.

"We can look it up on Accuweather," I said to Dan. "Aren't you proud of me? I want to use the TouchPad."

Dan, sensing that I was warming up to the TouchPad, downloaded a free e-book from Amazon. I guess he figured the way to my heart was through a book, even if it was in an electronic format. I have been reluctant to embrace the e-book idea. Dan has already said if we ever get a Nook or a Kindle, we can't buy any more print books. ("It's better for the environment," he says, appealing to my environmentalist sensibilities.) Maybe I'm just an old lady, but I still love feeling paper flipping through my fingers.

The other day, while Dan was still at work, I found myself looking for the TouchPad. I figured Dan must have taken it with him, and all of a sudden, I felt a little sad that I couldn't play with it. Perhaps soon, Dan will be the one asking, "Are you playing with your TouchPad again?"

That still sounds slightly naughty.



Check out my writing in An Eclectic Collage Volume 2: Relationships of Life, now available at www.freundshippress.com. For more information, visit the book's Facebook page.