AnonymousCoworker

Last night I went to a board meeting for the community association so I could present what I had done with the website for them so far. Just finding a way to present the information to them was a hassle in itself because though the president of the board has a computer, she does not have access to the internet. So I couldn’t have them gather around her computer, and I couldn’t rely on someone having an open wireless signal if I were to haul a laptop over there, so I settled on printing out screen shots of the blog I started for them.

This turned out to be a bad idea too because the font size was tiny, but it was the only way to show the whole website on one sheet of paper. So I did my best with the screen shots and included a couple of cropped and blown-up images so that the geezers could see that yes, words really did exist on these pieces of paper I was giving to them.

As they were looking at the screen shots of the blog I was trying to describe, without being condescending, what they were looking at and how they could use it. I mean, I could have easily said, “Listen up you ancient meatbags. You’re about 10 minutes from becoming worm food, and the pictures in your hands are of a magical newsletter that exists in one place but can be seen by millions of people from all over the world thanks to the darkest sorcery and a few blood sacrifices made to the robot gods that sneak into your house and eat your glaucoma medicine while you’re sleeping!” But I didn’t. I talked about how the info from the newsletter could be added to the website, and how this could save them money on the cost of printing the newsletter, and how the cost of the new website and new email address would be free.

They, of course, hailed me as the savior and messiah that would bring 100% neighborhood participation to the community association and who would increase revenue so the board would be living like hundredaires. But not everyone thought I was the world’s greatest vibrating mustache ride.

The whole time I was talking a man of about 85 who was sitting next to me was looking over his glasses at the screen shots held at arms length in front of him. Every time I mentioned something like email, a website, a link, or the internet I thought I heard him grunt disparagingly. I made sure to say that my goal wasn’t to eliminate the newsletter, but to instead reach out to neighbors that had been missed previously. I wasn’t trying to upset the status quo, I was just adding to it.

The man sighed, took his glasses of, looked at the group, looked at me, took a deep breath and sighed a little again and said, “So you’ve created a blog for us, eh?” And at the word “blog” I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open and I shit a brick.

Another guy threw his arms up in the air and said, “You lost me at ‘email’,” and conversation around the room started up so I was able to have quick snippets of conversation with the aged technophile while I also fielded questions from the floor.

Apparently he uses the internet to monitor his investments, communicate with friends and family, get the news, and just generally goof off. He didn’t say it, but I have an inkling that there are probably a couple blogs out there that he reads on a regular basis.

Once the questions were done I excused myself because, though I was offered a position on the spot, I had no interest in being on the board or listening to the rest of the meeting.

I packed up my things, put on my coat and hat, and slung my bag over my shoulder as I headed towards the door. Conversation about the website diminished, but as I was closing the door behind me I was sure I heard the man say, “Maybe this fella can help us set up our own server.”

And then heard the other man say, “What in the hell is a ’server’?”