ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, January 7, 1996 TAG: 9601110008
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
COLUMN: New River Journal
SOURCE: MADELYN ROSENBERG
This year, we gently tugged (or perhaps pushed) my in-laws into the 21st Century.
All told, it went swimmingly, though there were a few bugs along the way.
For instance, as we pulled their Christmas gift - a Hayes modem for their IBM-compatible PC - from its hiding place, my husband had a minor panic attack.
"I hope it's not like in 'Babe,'" he said, clutching the box.
There's a scene in that movie where the kids bring their farmer-parents a lovely fax machine for the holidays. The parents, who are still drawing their own well water, just stare at it, dumbfounded.
"It's so we can talk to you, Mama," explains the daughter.
"Nice," the parents say, with smiles that mean: "I thought that's why we had telephones."
"Oh!" Butch's mom exclaimed as his dad opened the box. Pause. "What is it?"
Butch and I looked at each other.
"'Babe,'" we thought.
"That," said Butch's dad, giving us hope, "is the best modem money can buy."
For the next few hours, they worked, Butch and his dad, at rounding up the appropriate cords for the computer and putting them in place. At one point, my father-in-law was flat on his back, reaching up for the screwdriver his son handed him on command.
They could have been working on an old Buick.
Modem attached, we were ready to put in a disk and try out our 10 free hours from America Online.
Splat. Another bug.
Butch's dad works slowly and methodically; Butch works by trial and error. Eventually, they both get where they need to go, but along the way, they drive each other slightly nuts.
There was an uncomfortable moment when the computer crashed.
There were several moments where error messages blinked at us from the center of the screen, proclaiming we had an invalid something-or-other.
There was a moment when they both left the room, leaving me and my mother-in-law in front of the computer, where the icons on the screen saver drifted down like snow, the closest we came in Hampton to a white Christmas.
Finally, a few credit-card numbers later, with only seven or eight free hours remaining on America Online, we were on the Internet, surfing.
We offered a two-minute course on the glories of e-mail. We visited the homepage of the American Woodworkers.
We took a quick foray into one of those America Online chat rooms where everyone in the world with a new modem and 10 free hours was hanging out on Christmas Eve.
"Hi."
"Where are you from."
"Did you get this for Christmas, too?"
"Are you a girl?"
We posted our own message - "bye" - and fled.
Eventually, we left the computer dark and went on with other holiday traditions.
All to soon, it was time to leave.
"E-mail us when you get home, so we know you're safe," Butch's mom said, and we promised, with a flurry of hugs and kisses, that we would.
In the car, I made a mental list of everything we were supposed to take home to Blacksburg. Gifts, leftover turkey, pictures. Darn. We had forgotten Sally's recipe for Artichoke Strata.
Oh well. There's always something.
Exhausted, we settled back for the ride.
Five hours and a few rest stops later, we signed on to our home computer to tell Mike and Sally we'd made it.
There was an e-mail message waiting for us, thanking us for the gift and the visit.
At the bottom was a recipe for Artichoke Strata.
We smiled.
My in-laws are going to get along just fine in the 21st century.
Which is a good thing. My parents are next.
Madelyn Rosenberg is The Roanoke Times' assistant New River editor.
LENGTH: Medium: 82 linesby CNB