Brand building through storytelling

Woman against computer

I am now the perplexed, weary, strung-out-to-the-point-of-tears owner of a spiffy new desktop computer. It has a monitor so big and bright, I can see my reflection while writing this to you (hmmm…better book that hair appointment pronto). Its operating system has the subtlety and cunning to hide essential files in mysterious virtual crannies. Its keyboard boasts more symbols and buttons than the control panel of a jet.

Thanks to one of those exquisitely sensitive buttons, I’ve just spent a good hour grappling with severe compositional turbulence. My clever keyboard took a notion to Frenchify my prose. It decided that all apostrophes would henceforward be replaced with accents graves. I thought I could rise to the challenge of writing this post sans contractions, but the words on the screen just didn’t look like mine. And so, after an urgent plea to the genial techie who keeps me aloft in cyberspace for a not-inconsequential hourly fee, I’m writing once again in my own voice.

I remember when I hardly wrote a line without knowing that someone would pay for it. Even keeping a journal seemed to me a distraction from magazine articles written to order. This morning I’ve paid for the privilege of writing what no one has asked to see.

You could blame it on my mental block against technology. According to my husband, who has watched me tear through electronic files in search of a “lost” travel itinerary that later turns up amid my speaking notes, I view computers as the enemy, always waiting to wreak havoc with my tidy little life. True enough, but my distractible brain can wreak plenty of havoc without any help from a computer. I once canceled all the credit cards inside a “stolen” wallet that had been sitting all along in the nether reaches of my purse.

Anyway, I’ve won the latest round against the new computer. Or at least the techie has won it for me by adjusting some controls whose exact location on the desktop I can’t quite recall. My fancy keyboard is now on strict instructions to use no languages but English. It may look worthy of a jet, but it’s as humble as a toaster. Ah, relief!

Speaking of the toaster, it’s 100 years old this year—and toast, to me, is synonymous with comfort. Click here to read more about my favourite unsung food. Click here to read what keeps me blogging.

 

Posted by Rona

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