High Tech, Low Tech, and On-line Afflictions

Around 6 years ago, our family took a trip to France. Our friends have a house in Ramtuelle, a Medieval city built in a circle overlooking the sparkling Mediterranean. Honest, it does sparkle. We frolicked on Pamelonne Beach, made famous by the production company filming And God Created Woman with Brigitte Bardot and we ate at Club Cinquante Cinque (55). 

You know how you often hear “oh, the restaurant’s right on the beach”? Well, Club Cinquante Cinque (55), really, really IS right on the beach. Sitting around a large table in the canvas-shaded patio of this beautiful place, we had no idea how hard it was to get a reservation. Our girls, aged 12 and 7, adapted to the lifestyle like seasoned European travelers.  The kids ate everything that came to the table. Fried smelt were eaten like potato chips…that is, until the real thing came along (one of the restaurant’s specialties). Lena and Hannah devoured catch of the day and seasonal vegetables such as artichokes without the usual suspicion, wrinkled noses and coaxing. Score! After 2 weeks in Ramatuelle, we went off to Paris. 

I have a curious on-line/tech dependency on my husband. I do not have an iPod – therefore I am totally dependent on him at times (on road trips, for example) for “his” music choices. His daughter tried to fix this for me and loaded some of my favorite albums onto his iPod which was very nice of her but his songs still outnumber mine about 50 to 1. I do not have an Amazon account. That’s not true – I do have an Amazon account but I can’t ever seem to get it to work. I am constantly emailing him links to things (books, mostly) with a plaintive email that says, “Pls buy this for me. Thanks.”

I am, in fact, a hopeless on-line shopper. Every time I shop on-line something goes wrong. It doesn’t arrive. It is the wrong size. I thought I had success the other day on E-Bay. I bought four curtains for a house we’re presently renting as there were no curtains in the office. The ad said in its headline: Two Sets. For the record, "Ms. eBay Retail Offerer" a set is two curtains. So I thought I was buying four panels which is what I needed. In fairness, the somewhat complex paragraph I checked after only one set of curtains arrived, said two panels, but the headline was completely deceptive and, of course, her ad said, “Final Sale. No Returns.”

I am also somewhat tech-deficient. I don’t have a Kindle (but I don’t really want one.) I don’t have an iPad (about which I’m somewhat more ambivalent.) I do not have a GPS and my relationship with Siri is fractious at best. But my husband bought me a FitBit a month ago. Let’s not discuss the fact that it was an anniversary present (read: jewelry preferable) but for a moment I felt free. I actually had a device that synched to my computer that was just about me. It told me how many steps I took each day. He thought it was remarkable that I could collect 10,000 steps and never leave the house but other people who know me and know that I can’t sit still for very long didn’t think it was that strange.

There are only certain places I can take her.  She is sort of bulky; she never orders anything.  Nowhere too crowded, I wouldn’t feel right taking up a booth with her.  But at the same time, nowhere that doesn’t have the possibility of running into someone more interesting, in case I wanted to ditch her, or at least set her aside for awhile.  Somewhere with just enough scenic beauty to fill a background but not enough to completely divert my attention from her. 

Today I tried a new place that neither of us had ever been to, or perhaps she had, with a former companion.  La Conversation, nestled just under Sunset on Doheny.  I stared over her and people watched, hoping to enter into a ‘conversation’ with someone I had not yet met.  I watched a beautiful older woman accompanied by her nurse and her nurse’s son.  The woman daintily forked her salad while the nurse and her son loudly fought about his day and the nurse gulped down a smoothie.  The woman looked past her dining mates in my direction, although her senility suggested she stared into space and wasn’t really interested in me.

Tis the season of Sample Sales, or so it seems when the mailers start arriving announcing this 40% off (but it's in downtown LA) or that 80% off, but not until two weeks from now when I’ve completely forgotten about it and f*#k it anyway, where’s the instant grat? I subscribe to Daily Candy and Top Button, the latter being exclusively an online sample sale site. There is also a mother at my younger daughter’s school whose clothing line I happen to love that has her sample sale around this time too.

It’s taken me a long time to become a savvy shopper when it came to these 'deals’.  I was the sucker that clipped the coupon for something at the market I would normally never eat. I would be under the illusion my family might try the yogurt covered zucchini chips for 50% off. Invariably it would linger past its expiration date and get thrown out. This always jettisoned me into the  ‘I’m gonna be homeless someday, why oh why did I waste my money like that??” fear fantasy.  I would vow never to make that mistake again and I finally learned that the only coupons worth clipping for me are batteries and toothbrushes.  Do I really need that 35¢ off the second four pack of Charmin? Hell no!