Longer than usual basketball weekend in Monterey. This blog will return Tuesday, Dec. 23.
As stated in this space on numerous occasions, “technologically challenged” is a term that could be used to describe me, except other technologically challenged people might take offense if they ever caught a glimpse of me on an everyday basis. “Hey, no way I’m as bad as him!” I can almost hear them now.
So, many years ago, when a friend of mine was assuring me that entering into the “modern” method of communication, i.e. email, was going to be easy, I mentioned nothing involving tech was easy for me. First, we had to decide what our new “address” was going to be. Since our older son, Andy, was pretty clever – and possessed computer skills – Jane and I thought it would be a good idea to have him decide what the new “family” email address would be.
Andy thought about it and said, “How about ‘firstname.lastname@example.org’? It would stand for andy, alex, jane, jack, basketball.” Are you kidding me? Who’s kid is that brilliant? Did I fail to mention that, at the time Andy came up with this sensational idea, he was eight years old. It didn’t take long before we realized that, while allowing an eight-year-old to come up with an email address is a wonderful example of “today’s parents” empowering their child, it would cause major grief when people asked what our email was and it took 3-4 minutes to explain it to them so they’d get it right.
Shortly thereafter, it didn’t take long to realize I needed my own personal email and told my friend I just wanted something simple. We decided on email@example.com. Perfect! Only then, he told me there was a glitch. Someone was using that email address.
I knew immediately. When I was an assistant coach at the University of Tennessee in the mid-’80s, there was a period of about two weeks in which I received in the mail (the kind the post office delivered) around 20 copies of the National Enquirer, the original tabloid rag, from coaching colleagues all across the nation.
Apparently, there was a guy in San Francisco who was a cross dresser – at that time, he dressed as a nun, and called himself Sister Boom-Boom. The guy’s real name was, you guessed it, Jack Fertig. I always wondered what all those basketball coaches were doing reading the Enquirer.
Well, my old nemesis once again appeared (invisibly) to cause me grief, only this time it was because he had used the email address firstname.lastname@example.org. Would such a minor setback like that stop me? Absolutely not. I told my friend I’d use email@example.com.
And that is what my email address remains today. Nope, no zoho or yandex for me (I just looked those up and have absolutely no idea what in the world they are. I’ve heard of hotmail, yahoo and gmail but that’s too radical for me. Besides, I don’t want to jump into anything too quickly. For many years I held firm to the belief that:
“Computers were just a fad and people would get over them.”
P.S. If you Google “Jack Fertig,” the first two links are for the “other” Jack Fertig. And he died over two-and-a-half years ago.