Trying to be simple in a complicated world

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In fifth grade, when I was 11 years old, I got flung headlong off a runaway merry-go-round.As formative events go, it ranks pretty high. Skidding 50 yards across a playground, I learned a painful lesson: When life moves too fast, you need to slow it down or you could lose all the skin off your backside.Do you ever get a feeling that at some point, say, in the '60s, you got flung off the merry-go-round of life, and you've been trying ever since to catch up?No, I'm not talking about the use of hallucinogenic drugs; I'm talking about the world I live in -- a breathtaking, hair-pulling, jaw-dropping ride.Maybe you live in it, too.Often, I marvel at the wonder of it all; but occasionally I scratch my head and say, "Why is everything moving so fast and how can I slow it down?"My TV has four remotes and I can rarely make them work.The numbers on my cell phone are so small I need a telescope to read them and a knitting needle to punch them.My washing machine has 35 settings. I want one big button that says "wash." Don't even get me started on the dryer.Most business phones are answered not by humans, but by machines that order me to select "options" from a menu. If I make a mistake, they make me call back and start over.Nearly everything is a test, it seems; often as not, I fail.It's not easy being simple in a complicated world. But I try.This morning, for example, I wanted to repair a broken window shade. Never mind who broke it, let alone, how. I just wanted to get it fixed.So I called a repairman and left a message. Then he called back and asked me to describe the broken parts."They're plastic," I said, "and they're, like, broken.""Hmm," he said. "Can you e-mail me some pictures?"This gave me serious pause. Technically, the answer was "yes." My children had given me a fancy camera. They said I could plug it into my laptop to download and e-mail pictures. They even said I could use it to post pictures on my Web site. I hate it when they talk like that.What? Yes, I have a Web site (sharonrandall.com). For years, people told me to get one. So I did. Now I'm supposed to do things -- approve comments and answer questions and write something called a "blog," which is like a column, only different, and I'm not sure how.But back to that shade. I took a few shots of the broken parts, and dug out the camera manual to read how to put the pictures on my computer. The directions were written in Spanish only. I speak a few words of Spanish, but not those words. Luckily, there was a diagram. I followed it, and sure enough, it worked.Next thing I knew, I was e-mailing pictures of plastic parts to some guy I'd never met. I'm sure my grandmother was hooting up in heaven.Seconds later, the repairman e-mailed to say the photos were fine. He's got the parts. He can fix it. How simple was that?I grew up in a world of party-line rotary-dial telephones; black-and-white, three-channel, test-pattern TVs; and food you had to grow and pick and cook before you could eat it.Electricity flowed from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling; baths were taken in a washtub filled with water heated on the stove; air-conditioning was an open window on a summer night.I don't live in that world anymore. I wouldn't go back to it if I could. I'm trying to live in this world, slowly and simply, with as much grace as I can find.I just keep pushing buttons and pray one of them will work.Think I can manage to post those pictures on my Web site?(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson NV 89077, or at www.sharonrandall.com.)