Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Bracuta, a.k.a. Superwoman

Some people might find it flattering, but to me it gets tiresome after a while: my parents believe I am superwoman.
If anything is broken, I can fix it. If nothing can be done, call me and I will do it.
I know certain things come with age, but slowly and consistently my parents have come to rely on me to fix and/or solve anything anywhere.
For example, last week there was issue with the little remote that controls the access door to our parking at home. One of the door's (we have 2 access doors) mechanism had to be changed, therefore the remote had to be reprogrammed. Now, take into consideration that my father loves to keep useless, outdated and discontinued things and use them, and we have a problem.
When we first moved in, we were given 2 remotes per apartment. These remotes were very ugly (as are most of the things that come stock), so a few months later, being the gadget tech freak I am, I bought myself a brand new shiny modern remote. Needless to say, my dad kept the old one. I had no problem reprogramming mine, but dad's was a whole other story.
The process to reprogram dad's was as follows: I had to open the remote and align some buttons according to the button alignment on the gate unit. Now, one of my favorite phrases I use at home is "I don't know, I studied law", but since I don't believe in minimum effort, I proceeded to disassemble the motor in order to find the place where the supposed buttons were and proceed with aligning the remote's buttons. I did everything possible, but I just couldn't find the buttons. I even went online to find instructions on where to find them, but I couldn't find any.
Anyways, I programmed my remote and mom's, but I couldn't program dad's. I knew this would come back and bite me in the hinnie. I went upstairs and told dad what had happened, but he just didn't get it. My dad is very easy going, but when something gets inside that mind of his, there's just no way anyone will get out of it. He called my brother, who is not as easy going as I am, and he told him he couldn't do it. We are not, after all, CAME technicians. He kept on asking my brother to do it, and my brother told him he didn't have the time nor the knowledge.
My brother and I told dad to call the authorized technicians or get a new remote, but he said we could do it. He kept on asking me to do it, while I kept on telling him I WAS A FRIGGIN' LAWYER NOT A TECHNICIAN, and that I had done what I could. My solution was to either call the technicians or buy a new remote.
Last week, every single day, the theme of the day was the remote. Dad asked my aunt, my uncle, my brother and me again.... talk about consistent!
Finally, yesterday the technicians went home and reprogrammed the remote, well, dad's remote at least, I had to reprogram mom's and mine.
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My parents are technologically challenged. And when I say technologically challenged I really mean it. I have to give them 2 weeks courses to explain how to turn the TV on. And then every couple of days I have to give them refreshing courses. I have even had to learn the precise location of the buttons on the remotes, because they find it stressful to read the signs.
Dad: "Eny, how do I turn on the TV?"
Me: "Okay dad, upper left hand corner, do you see a sign that reads "Power"?"
D: "Yup"
M: "Press it"
D: "I did. It doesn't work"
M: "Are you sure you pressed the red button at the upper left hand side of the remote that reads "Zenith"? The one that says in tiny letters "power"? Are you pointing it to the TV?"
D: "I don't have my glasses on."
M: "Put them on"
D: "OK, Power, pressed it nothing. We're doomed, it doesn't work".
M: "Is the little red light turning on when you press the button? The one right next to the word "power"?"
D: "Let me see... yes, it is, but the TV isn't working"
M: "okay, since I'm at the office right now, working, I can't go home to press the button for you. Why don't you get off your couch, get near the TV and turn it on manually?"
D: "And how do I do that?"
M: "What, get off the couch, walk to the tv or turn it on?"
D: "Ja ja ja! You're funny!"
M: "Yes daddy, I know. Now, Under the screen there are a series of buttons with letters on top of them. Fourth button, left to right, it says "Power" in big letters. Now, press it."
D: "There is no power button, only ones that say "eject" and "stop""
M: "Dad, you're looking at the VCR. The VCR is underneath the TV. I said the buttons on the TV, just below the screen."
D: "Oh, yes I see them now. Which is the button I have to press again?"
M: "Fourth button, left to right, it says "Power" in big letters."
D: "I pressed it. Nothing. The TV is broken."
M: "Is the TV's plug connected?"
D: "I dunno, how do I check?"
M: "Go behind the tv, there's a little electric strip connected to the socket on the wall."
D: "There's a bunch of things connected there."
M. "Yes, I know. Now, follow the cord that comes out of the TV. Give it a little pull, see if it's connected."
D: "Yes, it is. But the TV still doesn't work."
M: "Okay, you'll have to wait 'till I get home then."
(I can hear my mom shouting in the background "all I want to do is watch a little TV! Why, Lord, why?")

A few hours later I get home and my parents are watching TV in the study, but as soon as they hear me coming in they jump from their couches and ask me to check their TV.
M: "Let's see. Manually turn the TV on (the TV flawlessly turns on), check, It works."
D: "It didn't turn on when I pressed the button."
M: "Now, let me see the remote. (press the power button, the TV turns on)."
D: "But it didn't work when I pressed it!"
M: "I know dad, the TV has got something against you"

This goes on at least once a week, every week the whole year. Now, my father speaks very good english, but he just doesn't seem to get that the "power" button actually means power button, or that the "stop" buttons actually stops things or that the "play" button must be pressed if you want to see anything on the TV screen...
And I will not get started on explaining to them how to work the vcr, the dvd player or the dish receiver.

6 comments:

Gdulsura said...

Bracuta me encanta tu blog!! Gracias por darme esas risas q lo necesitaba jaja me rei mucho con tu post de superwomen tu eres la mejor de los blogs!!

El chico del apto 512 said...

Hija mia, toda esa paciencia reparara muchos de tus pecados! Yo hubiera dicho "po na, se daño compren otra"

( Btw, los superheroes tan de moda, mira a ver y pichea la idea a WB pa que le compres un robot y te dejen de fuñir :p)

Anonymous said...

No te sientas sola en el universo, en mi casa es asi conmigo. Si algo se daña mi nombre es la melodia que los rescata de todo eso. Pero nada asi expresan su cariño, solo que aveces no los quiero tan expresivos.

Bau

Bracuta said...

Gdulsura:
Gracias! Hasta me estoy poniendo colorada, pero creo que no soy la mejor, aunque quizás quede dentro del top 5...
ji ji ji!
Chico: hummm me gusta la idea.. es más como en FOX ponen de todo, voy a ver si quieren hacer un reality show con mi Bracuta-bot... maybe that way I'll finally get rich and retire!
Bau: Je je je! Si esta es la forma de expresar si cariño, mis padres están full de love!

Laina Torres said...

En verdad tu blog esta divino, me encanta leerlo y reirme con cada boberia dicha. Cuando digo boberia, no es para que te ofendas, lo digo con buen gusto.

No tengo un blog, en verdad nunca me he ocupado de hacer uno o mejor dicho nunca me he sentido motivada para hacerlo. Leo a Remolacha y haci visitos los blogs mas interesante. El tuyo es uno de esos.

Pero tengo una curiosidad...lo que escribiste acerca de ser Superwoman con relacion a tus padres....me pregunto, porque una mujer como tu...que me imagino que eres, Indepediente, trabajandora, tienes ganar lo suficiente para vivir y tener y hacer lo haces/tienes. Porquevives con tus padres todavia? Has pensado en indepedizarte totalmente? No te gusta vivir sola?

Disculpame lo metiche que soy, pero tengo muchos meses leyendo tu blog y me doy cuenta que al parecer eres una de las "riquitas" del pais. Hay muchas mujeres con menos clase social que tu, que ya viven sola y han tomado curso de su vida independiente.

Soy hija de padres Dominicanos, y talves porque viva en fuera del pais se mas 'independiente' diria yo. Creo que tengamos la misma edad, y yo hace años que vivo sola, y claro que sigo visitando a mis padres todo el tiempo. Como los padres no hay dos.

Disculpame si te ofendi, en verdad soy metiche por naturaleza.

Tienes un gran blog.

Take care!

Laina

Bracuta said...

Laina:
La verdad es que, por más que me quejo, adoro a mis padres. No me he mudado sola primero porque no tengo como mantenerme; trabajo, pero de verdad que no gano lo suficiente para vivir cómodamente y dentro de los estándares que llevo en mi casa. La verdad es que mi sueldo es un disparate, no gano ni la mitad de lo que un parqueador ilegal gana en los Estados Unidos (no te imaginas lo poco que gano) y además en estos momentos mis padres me necesitan. Ambos están avanzados de edad y saliendo de enfermedades y cuentan conmigo para todo.
Diría que estoy haciendo por ellos lo que ellos hicieron por mí cuando era una bebé indefensa.
En algún momento me mudaré y romperé ese "hilo" que nos une, pero la verdad es que soy muy apegada a ellos (plus, I don't make nearly enough money, what I make would only cover my gasoline expenses and a girl has got to live).
Además, todavía no me están botando de mi casa y el día que me vaya de mi casa tiene que ser para vivir igual o mejor, pero nunca peor, y con el sueldo que gano no podría ni mudarme en una habitación de una pensión.
No te preocupes, no me ofendí, y te agradezco que leas mi blog.
Cualquier cosa estoy a la orden