It was a long grueling day, but she eventually figured out how to do most of what she had to do. After she memorized
those actions she used most frequently, she seemed quite capable and no longer needed my supervision. Her favorite
trick was Alt−F3, which closed a window and terminated a program. Because she had several things figured out, I
thought I'd dare teach her something new.
Me: You know, if you don't want to use that key sequence, you can define it yourself by...
Mom (protecting the computer like it was her only child): NO! Don't touch anything! I know how to use it now, so
don't confuse me any more!
My fault. I figured that since she was pleased that she could change window colors, she'd be eager to make other
aesthetic alterations. Her reaction to my offer to teach her how to change keyboard input foreshadowed what was
about to come. I was in the other room when I heard a screech: "The computer is broken! The Alt−F3 thingy you
showed me doesn't work any more!" Sure enough, it didn't work on the window she was trying to use it on, but as we
discovered, that was the only window on the screen where it didn't work. It turned out that the program she tried it on
didn't understand the Alt−F3 thingy. It was devastating for my mom and, needless to say, she will never run that
program again.
We never did get to her new insurance software; we didn't have to. All she needed to learn was how to use the
graphical user interface. She now reports having figured out her company's software "all ...