I’m coming up on the anniversary of moving to my farm twenty-five years ago. It coincides with my dysfunctional affair with technology. My first night here was a full-moon Halloween. I know this because I wrote important dates on my calendar. This means that at the end of one year, I hand-copied it all onto the next year’s calendar. I’m bad with dates, but I had Y2K spelled out on New Year’s Eve. Calendars have improved.
A few months earlier, a client came into my gallery to show me a drawing program on his computer. He thought it would be a great tool to describe potential designs to clients. What an insult. I was indignant. My Montblanc Meisterstuck LeGrand fountain pen with gold trim did me very well. Thank you.
Around the same time, a friend and I were writing screenplays together. He bought software for his computer, so we didn’t have to do all those crazy-making tabs manually. After using that writing program, my typewriter was like using charcoal on bark in front of a campfire. I couldn’t stand it.
I stayed in limbo for a few more years. Then, I bravely purchased my first computer, a Gateway, as much for the cow print box as anything. I didn’t know computers, but I knew Holsteins. Mine lived in a cabinet the size of a refrigerator. For the first year, I spent twenty hours a week waiting on the helpline. It was a part-time job. It took that long to figure out that no matter the problem, their answer was always the same. Reboot, they said. Eventually, I learned to reboot it myself without calling first. It felt like I had achieved brilliance.
Technology exploded in equal parts convenience and a threat. Love and hate. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to learn it, but I wasn’t sure I could live without it. Perfect ambivalence. Other people had half a chance. They had kids, but I didn’t and I couldn’t be borrowing theirs forever. Besides, I was a horsewoman. I rode thousand-pound half-wild animals and would not get bucked off a computer. Well, not without a fight.
Then my life came apart. People died. Friends stopped being friends. The building where I leased gallery space sold, and I got evicted. And my best old dog died. I lost so much in such a short time that I felt I had nothing left to lose. I just wanted to go home, but I didn’t have one to go back to. So, I bought a farm for my horses and left the city. It made as much sense as anything else.
Moving to my farm was a step back in time. Rustic would have been a flattering term, but I stayed busy. I built fence, learned to hang gates level, and tore down the old pit bull runs. At night, I howled at the moon. Work was slow. I used wheelbarrows and hand tools and could have filed horse’s hooves with my bare hands. I thought I was pretty tough. A real pioneer. But I had it switched. I’d grown up doing farm work, the pioneering I was doing was with technology. Sure, I was years behind, but I had an artist’s temperament. When dragging your feet, it’s important to have a plausible excuse.
The first month after the move, one of my horses came up lame, and the farrier told me it was White Line Disease. What? He said he’d never seen it in Colorado. A slight relief since I’d never heard of it. I pored over my horse books with no luck. I needed to know more so I could find out what went wrong and how I could avoid it in the future, but instead, I paced and worried about my other horse. Would he need a hoof re-sectioned, too?
I was only using my computer to write long lonely emails to faraway friends, thrilled that I didn’t have to wait for the mail. That was the big sell, the luxury of writing without a stamp. Since my long distance bill was the size of my mortgage, email was magic enough.
It took a day more of pacing for me to recall a thing I’d heard of called “googling.” I could try that, but I didn’t know how to find it on my computer. And it wasn’t like I could google “googling.” I was stumped. You remember those days, right?
Eventually, I called the Gateway helpline and asked them. An hour of waiting on hold later, the chuckling tech guy told me where to find it, right under my nose all the time. I typed my search into my browser and then went to the kitchen to make tea. Because it took the time it took. When my answer finally came back, my tea had cooled. Dial-up was that slow but there was more pertinent information than a library would have had.
I purchased my first cell phone when I moved, too. I had to walk out to the front corner of the property to get reception, and it still dropped calls most of the time. What I remember about those days was constant learning exhaustion. Doing vaginal flushes on my llama, stacking hay, and watching my septic tank collapse was easy compared to making peace with these small machines.
Why am I trying to amuse you with a story of struggling with a computer instead of a story of a rescue horse? Would your heart have swelled with concern and affection if the dysfunctional computer had been a stray dog? It’s not the same, you’re right. Machines aren’t alive. We resist progress if it doesn’t have a cute face.
But looking back over the same twenty-five years, has our horse world changed less? Vets now carry portable radiographs in their truck. Lifesaving drugs have been developed. Trainers like me use tablets as a learning tool for riders. A photo texted to your vet is invaluable, a video even better, and it all fits in a pocket. Saddle designs have evolved as we better understand anatomy with the help of technology. We can search an infinite online library and take courses on any topic. We can purchase what we need and get it quickly, even if we live in remote areas. From nutrition to bookkeeping, it’s all changed. I can sit at my computer and teach live lessons in New Zealand, but if someone told me this back then, I would’ve squinted sarcastically and asked Scotty to beam me up. Imagining my current life was impossible.
I don’t mean to preach. This reminiscing is meant to inspire me. I’m floundering to balance new technology with hard won common sense. Still working for an animal who deserves my best. I’ve come a long way, albeit kicking and screaming, and technology is like training horses. I’m the one who has to change.
Technology speeds along, but humans are imperfect. It can be intimidating to learn new answers to old questions. Nothing flows at first and we hear internal voices that make us doubt ourselves. My father would scoff at this new-fangled world, but do we have that choice? Can we love animals and hate technology? Rather than fight it, maybe just a spoonful of change a day. We managed to get cat photos on our cell phones, after all.
Some things haven’t changed in all my years. I’m hard-headed. I’ll grumble and stumble. But then I’ll pick myself up and get back in the saddle, like we do. Change won’t be quick and it’s rarely graceful, but we can’t all be horses.
[An audio version is available to subscribing members on Substack.]
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Keep the change, I always say. You never know when you might need it. I’m typing on my cellphone!
Thanks, Linda… and so we go.
Oh Anna, I snort-laughed at buying Gateway as a first computer for the Holstein box. So I wasn’t the only one? You brought back some memories, that’s for sure. Like the joy of “You’ve Got Mail!” No stamps and no waiting. What year did “googling” become a verb? Thanks for the great laughs and the encouragement this morning.
You did, too? Not surprised. Thanks, Kaylene. (While writing, I googled Google and it was 1998.)
Thank you. 🙏 I needed to hear you this morning.
Thanks, Carol.
Amen Anna! I have a love/hate relationship with technology. I alternate celebrating it’s brilliance and blaming it for most of our world’s ills. I will continue to toil with it’s advances, but it’s just easier and more satisfying to muck stalls, stack hay, and brush mud off somebody’s rump (specifically a horse rump, haven’t tried this activity with humans).
Stumble and grumble on!
Hehehe, Laurie. Mucking one place or another, that’s what I do, too.
many years ago, when microwaves first came out, I was showing my grandmother how to use it. she turned a disconsolate face to me, saying “Susie, I just cannot learn another new way.”. I realized that she had mastered wood stoves, gas stoves and electric stoves – who could blame her for saying “Enough!”. And now, I am exactly where she was. It isn’t that I can’t learn new ways;it is just that I am tired of doing so…. thanks for your post.
That’s it exactly, Sue. And we may have covered more ground than that generation…
I identify strongly with this piece, but no surprise there. I was dragged into the computer age because of my job. First I had to master DOS and Lotus 123, internet came years later. I had a cell phone but rarely used it to take pictures. The first video I ever took was for my first class with you. I have become good enough with computers to become the go-to tech person. The bar is particularly low since I work for a nonprofit organization of animal people. You are right, Google puts the whole world of information at our fingertips and my horses have better lives because of that.
Doing things on a cell phone is still a work in progress. I still reach for a pen and paper when I see something I want to remember, taking a photo or screenshot doesn’t even occur to me and I frequently get bucked off trying to make videos. Still, I keep trying
Truth, and without it, no one at the Barn School would have met. Thanks, Peggy
LOL! Sounds SO familiar! My family moved to where I am now – kids are grown and gone – husband is an ex and deceased – I have the whole place to myself. Two horses, one ancient burro and one cat with problems are my bunk mates. It’s been more like 30 years tho. My first computer (that I could actually use) was a bit before Y2K and internet was dial-up and slower than cold molasses. MY search program was Ask Jeeves tho. VERY handy! I believe it sort of turned into Google – who knows!? And yes! Sending pictures of my horse who had come down with pigeon fever was a god send! He didn’t want me dragging her to his clinic, so he came out and we dealt with it. SO much pus! At any rate, technology is as much a hindrance as it is a blessing.
And it keeps us connected though we live on dead end roads. Thanks, Leslie.
Ah yes – working for a construction company – when I first went there, we had a Burroughs “””computer””” the size of a grand piano – it used ledger size cards! Well, still typewriters too – altho they were at least electric. Then moved the offices and “lept” into this century (HA) with a fax machine – still typewriters. THEN on to computers – boy that was a big step. I think it was before Y2k.
Hard to believe, right at this point in my life (and age) how much I really did learn and comprehend.
I remember the Gateway boxes, tho – always thought those were really cool.
Still dont use the cell phone for much of anything – have a landline when I WANT to talk to someone!! I get how Sue feels!
Frankly, I got turned off with cell phones by watching children, grandchildren AND great grandchildren being so attached.
Maggie, you had a dinosaur computer!! And I know kids aren’t like we were, but tech is the future and I want kids to be able to compete in that world. No going back in time…
Yes I have “issues” with cell phones – but computers? Absolutely not. I spend far too much time sitting at my desktop. My son has – over the past few years – given me a laptop and a tablet – but I’ll stick with my desktop – got used to actually typing for too many years.
After all, how would I have found Anna Blake without it!!!
Anna,
I always think of you on cold days when the weather is inclement — freezing hands, trying to clip blankets (never fun),
de-icing, going out al all hours caring for your farm and all therein. And I think of you on humid, hot days when tasks
are doubled due to the heavy air (perhaps not so much there, as here) — this past summer was very challenging.
I will say (technology aside) that the ‘fly predators’ we used all summer (and last week) have made a huge difference
at our barn (12 horses). Even in this sub-tropical swamp, there was barely a tick or an insect bite this summer — just the
odd one here and there. They do their jobs, the predators. Next year, I will order more.
Technolocy, I am with you, but you are far ahead with the cell phones. We only just ditched our old land line last week — after fighting it for the past two years. Friends looked at me in amazement when I told them I still had a land line. The provider
finally talked us out of it as they are trying to do with everyone. So, we gave in and ordered five phones — cordless. I will
admit they are so much better, with greater clarity, and now in all rooms (in case of calls from the barn, especially).
I still dislike cell phones, but agree that sending a photo or video to the vet is a huge plus. I only use them when necessary
though, The cordless phones at home, yes, I like them.
I do wish you were not so far out, and closer to necessary places. I think we all worry about you, often alone on the farm,
even though we know of your great strength. May you always be blessed, and your road ahead offer wonderful things to
come.
Nuala, that was 25 years ago. There has been too much growth and I’m not still using wheelbarrows. I wouldn’t trade my Colorado location for anywhere else, and thanks to technology, I’ve been about everywhere else. I am nothing but lucky. Don’t worry for me. I have built a wonderful life here.
To everyone who has commented, a reminder that without technology, none of you would have ever heard about me. As an equine professional I have little choice but to strive onward if I want to continue to be relevant. Now I am podcasting, it’s a learning curve, but not harder than the other work I do, just new software for editing. Thanks, all of you, for your time reading.
Thanks for the memories, Anna! Still struggling after all these years…but not stressing over it anymore. Just this morning my husband brought up the word “browser.” I said to him, “Don’t ask me what that is!”
The people who built the barn at the house we moved into back in 2000 had a landline installed in the tack room. It was so handy when we had to call the vet and then wait for a return call. But loved getting a cell phone.
Cell phones save lives… and browser is just a bad word. Thanks Lynell
I started with the gigantic tube computer at Luke Air Force Base. Giant Eniac third generation. Back when bugs were real bugs in the tube channels. I learned to program and punch cards for work because it was the only way to work with the machine. Move forward to working at Honeywell and the transition from a dumb terminal access to a mainframe to a desktop computer that cost a small fortune. Along with a cell phone that could serve as a club when the battery died. Now have a laptop and a pretty cool smart phone but have cussed when I have to learn new technologies or programs that aren’t always better than what I had. Or when the tech doest cooperate with what Im trying to do. I do love the connection to people around the world.
Heheheh. Real bugs. Well done, Mary.
This is a timely piece ! Thank you for acknowledging the difficulties most of us at a certain age have with embracing technology. Yet the gifts are huge. I’m happy you persisted in the past, and continue to do so. You didn’t even mention the leaps and high jumps you have cleared with the Barn platform, Zoom classes, and much much more.
Thank you for persisting and showing us we can ride this horse.
Thanks, Sarah. It all starts with “how do I plug this sucker in?” and grows from there. Thanks for acknowledging The Barn School and all of its sub-drama (Zoom, Vimeo, editing software, cloud storage, etc) I know you have done work to be able to work virtually… It’s necessary, as others have noted, for work. But it’s more than that. It’s how we live, bank, get news, shop. We have a choice, will we move ahead with our culture or stay where we are? At a certain age, it’s a valid question.
It is a luxury to be able to blow off social media and technology, a luxury like dark chocolate and Merlot. And when I retire, I will take great joy in it.
This was great, Anna. I am right there with you and it’s been about 25 years for me, too. So many things we’d never have imagined. The only difference? I finally married an IT guy…and now I just pass on my computer dilemmas to him. Well, he DOES still remind me to “reboot” from time to time! We do the best we can; that’s all we can do. And your comment about, whether training horses or learning new technology, WE’RE the ones who must change? I hate it, but you’re absolutely right. Thanks for the walk through memory lane and the chuckles!
Thanks, Dawn. I live with a person who worked in the field, too. But somehow, I’m still the tech guy!