Category Archives: Techno Tripe

April 21, 2026 · 1:05 pm

High-Tech Wizardry

There is not a day that goes by that I refrain from remarking how astonishing technology is. Case in point: NASA’s Artemis II space mission that recently transported four astronauts around the moon and back to earth. Safely, I might add. What an incredible achievement. The brilliance and mathematical calculations required to pull off such a feat just blow my ever-loving mind. Of course, I was glued to the TV at 8:07pm on April 10^th when they successfully splashed down in the Pacific Ocean, precisely on schedule and precisely on target—two more unbelievable accomplishments. I can’t even parallel park consistently.

Like a lot of people, I followed their 10-day 695,081-mile journey via social media and various news networks, absolutely floored by the images and videos they shared with the world. I wish I could say that as a 6-year-old I was equally impressed with the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969. But that was a long time ago, and I was probably more interested in cartoons.

Nevertheless, I am currently fascinated by such technological triumphs, especially the ones that improve our daily lives. The smartphone is a prime example—like a pocket-sized computer. And it’s almost surreal, as if we’re living a slice of the “reality” depicted on Star Trek. Aside from being able to Google literally anything imaginable, we have access to apps that allow us to do what was unthinkable just a few short decades ago. With all that is available nowadays, making a hands-free cell phone call while driving or zipping a text (while not driving) is almost pedestrian by comparison. What’s more, we’ve been able to FaceTime since 2010 and hold Zoom meetings since 2011. Thankfully my husband, who happened to be testifying in court in the basement of his mother’s house in his underwear, carried out a call and not FaceTime or Zoom. No judge or jury wants that visual.

But beyond the basics of navigating via GPS, emailing, taking, editing and airdropping photos and videos, playing music via Bluetooth, sharing contacts, jotting down extensive notes, exchanging money, shopping online, catching up on the news, checking the weather LITERALLY ANYWHERE ON THE PLANET and utilizing a calculator, flashlight and dictionary on command we can ask Siri ANYTHING. And sometimes she comes up with a reasonable answer. Confession: It does creep me out a little when I discover she’s been listening to me all along, not to mention the CIA and every business entity that curiously exposes me to their ads right after I research or mention a product. Oh well, I guess it’s a small price to pay for innovation.

Not surprisingly, I have some favorite apps, because of course I do. And I waste time on them just like everyone else. There’s the calendar app that’s automatically available on iPhones, without which I wouldn’t remember anything of importance or get anywhere on time because of its nifty alert/alarm feature that doesn’t let me forget so much as a dentist appointment. I no longer have to write down reminders in a little booklet that never fit in my purse right anyway. And I appreciate that advancement. As one might expect, I’m addicted to social media and have various accounts that I peruse routinely, much to my husband’s chagrin. A little time spent on Threads and Instagram (unless it’s doomscrolling, AI or body-shaming) can’t be all bad.

I really like the NYT Games app and our Ring app, too. It not only lets me see who is in our driveway or at the front door in real time, it also allows me to watch raccoons, possums and skunks lurking about on our deck so that I know when not to venture outside—which is good information to file away. Additionally, we have an app that conveys helpful data on the solar panels we recently installed. It has colorful graphs and an array of the individual panels that depicts exactly how each one is performing in terms of kilowatt hours. Once again, I am blown away by the technology on full display here. The basic alarm clock is nice, too.

Likewise, I’m amazed by all the bells and whistles contained within my Apple watch. It allows me to text and make calls, it counts my steps and measures my heart rate and it even “knows” if I’ve fallen and will automatically call 911 if need be. I certainly wish I had one when I crashed and burned on my skateboard in 1976.

And yes, I still obsessively stalk my people on the Find Friends app, but I track airplanes (FlightRadar24) now, too. Like a real nerd.

Welcome to my world. It’s where I live (in awe of the high-tech wizardry in our world). Visit me there at www.facebook.com/NotesFromPlanetMom. Signed books are available on Etsy at PlanetMomMarket.

Big Brother

I have a confession to make. I stalk my children. I stalk my husband, too. I don’t know why I do it, actually. It’s a sickness, I guess—an unhealthy obsession with knowing exactly where my loved ones are at practically every moment of every day. Thanks to the fine people at Apple and my friend, Drew, some time ago I downloaded the Find My Friends app on my iPhone and immediately began tracking the whereabouts of the aforementioned people.

The trouble is, they’re not particularly fond of it. Translation: They despise it.

“Mom, quit stalking us. It’s creepy.”

Creepy or not, however, apparently I get some peace of mind out of knowing what my kids are up to 24/7. Otherwise, I wouldn’t do it. The same goes for my husband, except that it’s more about convenience to know where he is at a given time. That way, for instance, I can “see” that he’s in the grocery store and know that it makes perfect sense to call him and tell him that we’re out of Cheetos. I don’t like to be out of Cheetos, ergo I feel compelled to inform him of such a dire situation.

The conversation goes something like this:

Me: “What aisle are you in? We need Cheetos.”

My husband: “What? How’d you know I’m in a store? Oh, that’s right; you have that blasted thing on your phone and you’re watching me like Big Brother. Remind me to SHUT IT OFF so you can’t monitor my every move.”

Me: “Wait. What? No. I like being able to see where you are, then I can call and give you helpful information that you might need—like the fact that WE’RE OUT OF CHEETOS. How would you know otherwise? You’re welcome.”

The conversations we have while he’s in the liquor store are strikingly similar except that they usually involve a dwindling supply of wine.

At any rate, I find the app to be remarkable in that I can even tell in which part of a particular building my kids happen to be situated at any given moment. Rest assured, if they’re supposed to be in chemistry class and they’re in chemistry class, my heart is happy.

Me: “So I noticed you went to Denny’s during the break between finals today. Was it fun? What did you order?”

Child: “Mom, that absolutely weirds me out. Why do you do that? It’s just not normal.”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess I like to see what you’re doing throughout your day and it gives me more stuff to talk about with you.”

Child: “Why not just ask me where I went and I’ll tell you?”

Me: “Yeah, but isn’t it more impressive that I already know where you went and we can skip ahead to other parts of the discussion?”

Child: “No. Not really. It’s just creepy and you should stop doing it.”

Unfortunately, I can’t stop doing it. At this late stage in the game, I have become hopelessly addicted to tracking my people and there is no turning back. There is something strangely comforting about looking at that tiny screen and seeing those familiar icons pop up, reassuring me that the people I care about are where they’re supposed to be—even if they’re worlds away for weeks at a time.

In an instant, I can gather a wealth of information—like which door to pick up someone at school and whether or not my progenies are still on the marching band bus, coming home from a late night competition or football game. Almost instantaneously, I can verify that all is right in my little corner of the world.

Strangely enough, looking at the map and those smiling faces within the teensy, tiny circles on my phone warms my heart—no matter how far apart they happen to be. It’s like holding my family in real time in the palm of my hand.

Of course, they would likely beg to differ, suggesting that they’re all under my thumb. Literally.

Planet Mom: It’s where I live, probably poring over my Find My Friends app. Visit me there at www.facebook.com/NotesfromPlanetMom.

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Filed under Family Affair, Love and Other Drugs, Techno Tripe, We Put the Fun in Dysfunction

Tagged as Apple, Find My Friends, humor, marriage, parenting, phone apps, technology

July 31, 2019 · 4:34 pm

Picture This

Grocery lists aren’t what they used to be. Or perhaps I should say they’re inherently different than they were before the advent of the smart phone. People no longer simply jot down a comprehensive list of the sorts of things they need with regard to food, toiletries and paper goods. Instead they “tell” their phones what they need or type those necessities into the notes app as a reminder—or at least I do. Then I can conveniently add items on the go, not once having to deal with finding a fresh scrap of paper or a pen that actually writes.

Even still, our family uses a notepad that is housed within a tiny cabinet in our kitchen, a place that is practical if nothing else. It goes without saying, however, that half the battle is getting certain inhabitants to REMEMBER to add things to that list. I am no exception as I often forget to jot stuff down when we run out of it. I, of course, convince myself that I’ll easily recall the fact that I’m almost out of dental floss, but somehow it doesn’t wind up on the almighty grocery list, which means I’ll have to forego the joy of removing food particles from my teeth until one of us gets to the blasted store.

I can’t even imagine trying to explain what a struggle this is to my great-grandmother who lived in a very different time and place. She and my great-grandfather owned a grocery store in the early 1900s—a store that stocked hundreds of items that were available for order and delivery. I still have a framed original of the order form, one that has since yellowed but hangs in my kitchen in all its glory.

Yes, Ovaltine made the list of must-haves at Mrs. Ray Rose’s Store back then, as did Wheaties and Vicks VapoRub. Aprons and dresses, too.

Cheetos…not so much.

I guess it comes as no surprise that grocery delivery is still a relatively popular service these days, just not in my house. We prefer to traipse around in a store ourselves, plucking items from the shelves in hopes that we purchase the exact variety of shampoo/conditioner our teens requested. It’s no wonder we screw up from time to time though, as there are roughly 17 adjectives that describe said shampoo/conditioner—all of which must be present on the bottle we end up throwing in the cart. Heaven forbid we bring home the wrong kind. There’s always a fair amount of hell to pay, aside from dealing with a shopping cart with a rogue wheel and a parking lot full of idiots.

One way we’ve found to alleviate such incidents, however, is to turn to our dear cell phones, once again—this time employing the camera function to great benefit. Whenever someone in our family requests a grocery item with RIDICULOUS SPECIFICITY, he or she simply takes a picture of the packaging TO INCLUDE ALL NECESSARY DESCRIPTORS and then texts it to the individual planning to visit the grocery store next, which is usually my husband. For some unknown reason, he seems to draw the short straw when it comes to running errands. In that way (at least in theory), there can be no misinterpretation or confusion about what to buy.

Thus far, this system has served us well, except when it doesn’t. Perhaps more frustrating than having to search the aisles for an elusive product is discovering that its manufacturer recently decided to change the packaging, making the mission to find said product almost impossible. The only way to circumvent choosing the wrong item is to physically bring all interested parties to the store, which is often met with audible groans of disapproval. At least they can then be responsible for picking out the wrong product themselves and refrain from blaming someone else.

Planet Mom: It’s where I live, probably texting my husband in the grocery store—ad nauseam. Visit me there at www.facebook.com/NotesfromPlanetMom. Now available in bookstores: On Motherhood: Fireflies to First Dates: A Collection of Planet Mom Essays.

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Filed under Normal is Relative, Techno Tripe

Tagged as family, groceries, grocery shopping, humor, parenting, shopping, smartphones

June 13, 2018 · 10:01 am