Shopping for new technology

As I’ve said before in this column, I rarely buy new things. Over the years, I’ve benefitted from hand-me-downs and “barely used” items to furnish my abode and even provide transportation.

This changed quite a bit after I got married, as Linda insisted on buying new when it came to getting a couch, a bed and other staples of a happy home. Last summer, we even bought a car that had only been made the year before. That would have been unheard of during my bachelor years.

Of course, I still stubbornly cling to old possessions that are mostly for my own use. My previous iPhone lasted me close to seven years before I traded in for a slightly newer model.

Now, I’m faced with another questions about what to do with a piece of outdated technology that I use on a daily basis: my Chromebook. This scaled-back version of a laptop computer has served me well for many years now. As advertised, it starts right up without any problem and plugs you right into the internet and all it has to offer. Of course, techies will tell you that it’s not a “real computer” because it doesn’t have many capabilities when not connected to the web.

Fair enough, but it’s always done what I’ve needed it to do. Until recently, that is, when I’ve run into a couple websites that won’t load on my aging contraption. This, I believe, is what they mean with the term “planned obsolescence” — basically designing something with a limited lifespan so you are forced to buy a newer version at some point.

I’m not naive enough to think that I can hold onto the same computer forever, but I always feel torn when it comes to buying the next model. I admit to getting excited about whatever new bells and whistles have been introduced, but I’m also very reluctant when it comes to giving up the features I’m accustomed to. One of the things that drives me crazy about the makers of technology is when they overcomplicate something that used to be simple and easy to use.

Also, when starting to look around for something new, I find myself overwhelmed by all the options. It’s like Rip Van Winkle shopping for potato chips after a 30-year nap — it’s hard to settle on a flavor when “chicken and waffles” is now available. Even the plain, old potato chip might not taste the same anymore.

So, I’ve started to venture out to some websites to see what’s available, though I will eventually head out to a brickand- mortar store and subject myself to the pitches of a salesperson. As a fan of shopping, Linda is excited by the prospect. For me, it’s a means to an end, a way of updating my technology just enough so I can go back home and enjoy it.

OUT FOR A WALK

KEVIN O’BRIEN

EDITOR