Simplicity is often touted for reducing stress and enhancing calmness. Theoretically that’s valid, and wise souls try to live simply. Reality may vary. Consider technology that makes lives easier in many respects and more complicated in others, particularly for those who became adults sans computers.

I am a poster child for seniors needing remedial help in electronics, living awkwardly between the traditional and modern. My possessions include a new desktop computer, an iPad and vintage cell phone with few capabilities. Email, Facebook and online bill paying are among my capabilities. Recently I was the driver on a three-hour car trip totally dependent on a GPS to arrive at my destination. After bragging to my daughter about my accomplishment, she informed me a GPS is obsolete because people now use smart phones for navigation. Who knew?

We became computer owners shortly after the year 2000 happened without complication. We recently purchased our third computer. True to character, we keep and use until obsolescence creeps in. We’ve never owned the latest in anything, but we still find life meaningful and enjoyable. My iPad was a gift 14 months ago. Any new item requires tutorial assistance, and my adult children are most helpful.

All was well until rather suddenly, while visiting my niece, the iPad’s functions became disturbingly slow. Since we have no Apple store in this area, we went to one in Fairfax, Va. where she lives. It was a cultural experience and a humbling one.

Friday morning was busy and bustling. Apparently it was calm compared to Saturdays. I tried acting confidently, fooling nobody. The consultant was young and courteous, but after basic testing, suggested we see a technician. I became concerned. Given the number of young people in that store coupled with all the technological devices, I was feeling old, overwhelmed and uncertain of hope for a productive future.

Securing an appointment isn’t complicated, but requires time and patience. When we returned to the store some 45 minutes later, we waited at an assigned table for our customer support person. Amin greeted us cordially, and diagnostic proceedings began. Five sentences into the dialogue, and my admission that I don’t text seemed to cause surprise and delays in Microsoft’s various security checks. Amin was reassuring, but my credibility declined without texting capabilities. My iPad passed the diagnostic tests with top scores, but my email was temporarily irretrievable. The latter caused considerable inner turmoil. I have many emails coming and going and some are permanently saved or so I thought. Amin remained composed and confident and I tried the positive approach, uncertain of what to be positive about. With his tests concluded he sent us on our way with directions to call Microsoft.

While running a few errands, we placed the iPad under the car seat, and on the drive home, heard the familiar ping and I checked to see what developed. Viola’! My emails were restored and ready for viewing.

Later I googled Apple and discovered the diagnostic table where Amin worked his magic is called The Genius Bar. I worried for nothing. Amin is apparently a humble man. Most importantly, my iPad continues operating at full speed. Imagine the fancy device that will be invented by the time I’m ready to begin texting!