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The Beverly Hillbillies get an iPhone


Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named Hugh…

"What do ya think this little do-hicky button is for?"

"Well I don't know; if I'd have known that I'd have pushed it! But since I don't know I didn't push it…and don't you push it – it may do something really bad!"

"Well I don't know what to do; what'ya want me to do? I think you really messed this up trying to do something."

Yes, this was the scene at my parents' house a couple of weeks ago when the three of us were huddled together, bickering and blaming trying to get my mom's new iPhone up and running. And if you threw in a couple of "Ma's," "fer's" and "I'da knowed's," it would have sounded like something straight out of The Beverly Hillbillies, a show I'm sure was based on my relatives.

Though we may not the be most "technologically-inclined" of people, those of us whose roots run deep from the great states of Mississippi, Texas, Kentucky, Arkansas, and of course, Oklahoma, we "Okies" can usually figure things out right quick. Usually.

But that there new gadget had us all slack-jawed and scratchin' our heads.

Until a couple of weeks ago, I was singing the praises of what I thought was the greatest single technological achievement of the 21st century - the iPhone. After all, I've had one myself for the better part of a year now, loved it, and been known to pull it from my pursepretending to answer a text or call just to show people in the room that, yes, I have an iPhone. I've even downloaded the most completely useless apps (when am I ever going to use the "turkey call" app?) just because I can (and they're free).

But when Dad called me over to help Mom start up her new iPhone, I was humbled, brought down a few notches by a small white rectangle, and reminded of my down-to-earth, technologically-challenged lineage.

"Is she having trouble with voicemail or getting into her email account?" I asked when Dad called.

"She can't make or answer a call," Dad said.

"All-righty-then," I said thinking, oh, this will be a piece of cake.

"Tap the screen twice to unlock" the computerized feminine voice instructed as I turned the phone on.

"She's been saying that since yesterday," my mom told me, glaring at her new gadget.

"Well, all we have to do is get into the settings and get her to shut up," I said, thinking problem solved!

Suffice it to say that after what seemed like hours (45 minutes) of turning the device off, then on; hooking it up to the computer; unhooking it from the computer; loading updates; restoring it to factory condition; and slapping each other's hands away as we tried to fix the problem the way our ancestors would have (without reading any directions or calling Customer Service for help), we decided that there DE-vice was too uppity for the likes of us.

"With an expert is the place we ought to be, so we loaded up the box and headed to AT&T..."

I watched Mom as I called her the other day, just to see if she knew how to use her iPhone, now that the nice people at AT&T were able to get it up and running. She scrambled to find it in the bottom of her purse, then just stared at the screen.

The Beverly Hillbillies Try to Answer Their New iPhone…wonder if there's an app for that?

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