Hi-Tech Redneck

There was a shiny new piece of hi-tech equipment with a big red velveteen bow parked in my driveway Christmas morning.

It seems my husband believes I should have a new vehicle every 200,000 miles or every 10 years, whether I am ready or not.

My problem is I am just not that good of a driver. How am I supposed to drive and find all the new buttons?

Did you know they don’t even put tape players in cars anymore?

Now if you haven’t shopped for cars in ten years, you’re in for some astonishing space-agey, new fangled gadgets. For instance, I don’t have to touch my hatchback any more to get it to close. There’s a button for that.

Oh and they don’t call ‘em hatchbacks anymore either.

Jeremy Lade looked at me with understanding patience in his eyes and explained that I would probably love sync technology once I got used to it. Bless his heart.

So just what is sync technology?

Well, as best as I can figure so far, I talk to my steering wheel and it dials my iphone for me somehow. Okay, so maybe I’ll admit that the road has been a more dangerous place since I got my iphone. And maybe I’ll admit I find myself checking emails as I drive. Did you know there’s an ap for Facebook?

This technological hot rod came with four- count ‘em, four- books. One whole book is devoted solely to making phone calls.

I have a simple solution to so much information. I just drive by the dealership for another lesson.

The guys at Lade have amazing customer service, especially for technologically challenged middle-aged mom-types.

But I’m seriously concerned about Ford’s future truck sales and here’s why:

My sporty little Edge doesn’t understand Jeremy too well.

Every time Jeremy spoke a command, the car’s screen said, listening…listening…listening….

I suspect my techy new Silver Bullet - yep, that’s what my teenage son and I call our new voice activated joy ride - is listening for the King’s English.

“I guess I can’t tell my car I’m fixin’ to call someone, huh Jeremy,” I said.

He laughed and gave me the title for this column.

I’m thinking those engineers at Ford better come up with a computer that listens for a Texas twang or they are gonna have some disappointed cowboys singing songs about losing their true loves because their pick up truck couldn’t dial her number.

And maybe trucks should answer with a younger, sexier voice.

My son suggested Carrie Underwood.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.