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Technology June 2012

The New Car vs. My Old Brain

By SueAnn Carpenter

I was so frustrated I didn't know whether to scream or cry. I told our salesman "I'm not smart enough to drive this car." Obviously he'd had many dealings with older clients and calmly assured me he'd explain everything – again.

It's ironic. Now that we can afford a new luxury car, we're not smart enough to operate it. I mean we can put it in gear and drive down the road, but we don't know what the car is thinking under that sculpted dash containing all the latest bells, whistles, and computer-generated gizmos. And it does think. Well, at least it seems to. What else would you believe when you can talk to it and the thing answers? It even asks questions which are really irritating because I don't know how to respond to a machine.

At any rate, before we left the dealership, our salesman paired up our phone with Bluetooth and BlueLink. In case we have an accident while fiddling with all the gadgetry, what's left of the car will automatically tell the EMS and police where to come and pick up the pieces.

Of course the phone, under normal circumstances, is now hands-free. That's good. I've never been guilty of driving and talking on the cell phone, because I have to keep both hands on the wheel at all times. Walking and chewing gum at the same time often confounds me.

Back at the dealership the second day with a little buyer's remorse, I was so frustrated I didn't know whether to scream or cry. I told our salesman "I'm not smart enough to drive this car." Obviously he'd had many dealings with older clients and calmly assured me he'd explain everything – again.

He said to come back as many times as I wanted, but I should consult the owner's manual and play with the features – probably for about 3 months. It turns out that the electronic brain in this new car is more powerful than anything we've got in our office, and we thought we were computer savvy.

It's dazzling, but intimidating. The salesman was right about reading the instructions. It took us three days to finally pair up the built-in remote with our garage door opener. There were screaming matches until my husband finally found the two final steps buried in a 2-inch thick manual written by a foreign engineer with only a passing acquaintance with the English language.

My husband had to climb up a step ladder to the motor that pulls the garage door up, where he found a magic button to push, then rush back to the car pairing the old remote with the new built-in amidst whirs and flashing lights – which finally got the darned thing working. Whew.

And it's not just new things to learn. It's those old habits that are so hard to break. After two weeks, I continue to fumble for an ignition key that no longer exists and has been replaced with a push button. Every time I back up I still strain my arthritic neck trying to look behind while the outside mirrors robotically aim toward the intended territory and the rear-view camera provides a large, clear picture right in front of me.

There's one nagging habit I've been forced to break. I always complained to my husband about his tailgating, but the new cruise control reflexively slows the car at a secure distance to equal the speed of anything that pops up in front of us. In addition, if he wanders off course, it yells at him so I don't have to. After a drive in these Lazy Boy-like seats, I'm not only relaxed, but I no longer feel the customary strain on my vocal chords. I think the person who invented all this good stuff had to be a nervous woman. Thank you. That, along with the memory-seat positions adjusted at the push of a button, will probably enhance our marriage. Again, thank you.

In the last year, two of our friends have purchased new cars, and they both admitted that they're still flummoxed by all the computer-controlled widgets, but I'm determined. I mean, for all the extra money we paid for these things...I want them to work.

I admit I'm a living dichotomy. I love to see new things and go places, but at the same time I'm a terribly anxious traveler. My primary project now is to get the hang of the navigation system. I want to tell it where I want to go and let it point out the best direction, because reading a map is another thing that occasionally (always) also confounds me. Besides, with its big brain, the nav system also identifies gas stations, restaurants and hotels along the way. What a relief.

And in the midst of this learning curve the on-board brain displays some admirable acuity without consulting the owner's manual. Like blowing cool air through the seat, instead of just in my face, and I like the way everything lights up at night when I approach. I especially like the lights on the bottom of the mirrors and doors that illuminate the ground. I read on the Internet that the latest trick for rapist/robbers, due to all the automatic lighting of new cars, is to hide under the vehicle and grab women by the legs. When I told my husband of my appreciation for that particular feature, he just rolled his eyes. But really, although the rest of me may not look so tempting anymore, I prefer to think I still have a pair of ankles that anyone – pervert or not – would willingly grab.

Who would have guessed that a car would bring something new and ever exciting to our lives? And who cares if it's smarter than we are? What matters is that it equates to all our years together – a really smooth ride.

 

SueAnn Carpenter writes under various pseudonyms and lives in Florida.

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