The lockdown threw up learning curves for silver surfers with ageing equipment.

A steep one was participation in a music ensemble (appropriately called Nevis Ensemble) performing “500 Miles”. 

My grandfather clock, fed up with lockdown, wanted to join in. 

The downstairs technology comprised my smart phone and my ancient I-pad. (“Ancient” in the digital sense:  old enough for primary school if it were human and if there were any schools open). 

I rigged up a dangerously unstable infrastructure of phone on top of pile of books on top of book stand on top of tripod on top of coffee table. All held together with elastic bands. The plan was to trust the I-pad with the simple task of accessing the backing track and leave the skilled job of filming to the phone. 

However the I-pad baulked at the cookies (and therefore the backing track) no matter how often I clicked “Accept”.  So it was over to the phone for the backing track and the I-pad for the filming. 

The clock’s part was to chime 9 to “waken me up” at the start. It performed this beautifully. Unfortunately the I-pad wouldn’t recognise my Facebook password and told me there wasn’t enough space for the 4 minute video (but irrationally refused to let me come in to clear space). And sprang off the tripod.

10 o’clock flew past. So the clock, the phone, the I-pad and I had to wait till the 11 o’clock chimes for the final take. (I don’t mess about with the clock’s chime and hands.  It’s even more ancient than the I-pad also peevish). 

The  I-pad had the last laugh when it refused to send the video. Didn’t recognise my Google password.  Anyway the video was too long. 

So I answered security questions, proved my identity, reset my password on all devices and bisected the video. The I-pad ran out of excuses and birled it into cyberspace – for good or ill.

A few weeks later those with keen eyes got a nanosecond of me (bathed in a weird golden glow) singing amongst 160 others.

 

  • Submitted by Mary McCabe