My mother called: "I can't find your blog."
I sent her the address.
The phone rang, "Well I fowarded it to Bobbi (my godmother) but then I tried to open it, and it still isn't working. Are you sure it's right?"
I double checked. It was wrong. I re-sent it, correctly.
She called again, "It still won't work. Do you think it's because you have one of those macs? "
"Mom, did you type dot com at the end?"
"No I did dot net, I thought It was dot net."
"No mom, it's dot com." She hung up.
There were several more calls in this vein. There were issues of mutual technological incompetence.
Fifteen minutes passed with no call. "I think she found it, " I thought, "Maybe she will become a fan! yay! I will have 7 fans, or does it count if it's your mom?" I opened my computer to see whether she'd commented.
She hadn't, but she did send me an e-mail with corrections for the "Why I Call him that" entry: Grandmother's drink of choice was an Old-fashioned, NOT a Manhattan. And it's Aphasia with an A, not Ephasia.
I stand corrected before my vast readership. Thanks to my mother.
*The Man Who Lives In My House was the one who observed that this whole exchange was like the very near sighted leading the blind.