Just last week I was totally floored by my new cell phone. I dreaded this moment because I finally felt comfortable using the old one for several years. The battery could no longer hold a charge and it was cheaper to replace the phone than get a new battery (Repair shops - who has ever heard of such places today?). Basically, it took me days to make a call. I no longer knew anybody's phone number by heart (like I used to, pre-cell phone days, nor, does it really matter, since it's not unusual for people to have at least 3 numbers - work, home and cell), and had to retrieve all the numbers off the old phone and re-enter them into this new thing, which was not intuitive to use at all. Come to think of it, nothing electronic is intuitive anymore.

There was, of course, the 170-page manual. While the new phone had super features, like I can actually type text messages with my thumbs (my 8th-grade typing teacher would die, if she hasn't already), I was wondering if I really needed the wonderful feature of the phone's ability to store 600 numbers. What I found absolutely cool was being able to give a different ring to any call made by people I know. Of course, when the phone started ringing, I had forgotten which ring I gave to whom. So much for cell phones.

The last piece of electronics I wanted to give an "Andy-rooney" treatment to is the computer, which has become an appliance, that, too, has become a multitasking machine of sorts. You can do about anything on the computer these days that you once probably needed at least 10 "appliances" to perform. You can listen to music, watch music videos, watch movies, write letters, do your finances, create a presentation or greeting cards, get online, send E-mails, burn CDs, DVDs, bla, bla, bla.

Every 6 months, a slew of new models come out, which immediately renders your computer obsolete. Each new series promise a controlled environment, right out of the box - completely idiot-proof (remember idiot boxes?). Each new operating system supports software that acts like a cancer cell. Once you install a software program onto to your computer, what does it do? It disseminates bits and pieces all over your hard drive, into numerous directories and subdirectories, with ambiguous file names that defy matchup to the software that spawn them. Delete one of these files and you will never be able to start your computer again. Try and remove a software program and you will know what I'm talking about. Oh, I miss the days of DOS!!!

Because of this sick system, end-users (that's us, folks) are virtually at the mercy of every computer tech around. We can no longer touch anything without doing further damage. Of course, bailing out any system will cost you many $$$$$, so it's much cheaper just to get another computer....

(One time I came across a computer quirk that I tried to fix (couldn't save files to the A drive). I reviewed 200 responses on 7 different computer forums from people having the same problem. There were at least 40 different solutions from 25 people who had different computer makes and models (not to mention a WIDE range of grammatical and spelling interpretations I didn't know existed in the English language). I eventually found the solution from a self-professed geek who found the answer on Microsoft's Web site, posted on one of its technical support pages. Did Microsoft ever thought of sharing that with the rest of us, or put the fix into one of its service packs??? Duh.)

It is somewhat ironic that such a wondrous work of electronics comes with NO printed manual, out of the box, since it's pre-installed on your hard drive, just like all the software that comes with the computer. Your computer dies, and there is no hope you will ever revive it (without the help of your friendly computer tech). And, for such an airtight system of technology, it is somewhat ironic that it succumbs so readily to numerous viruses, malware, spyware, what-have-you (Public Health, we need you...).