Tech: The Power and the Panic

      My friend Jock always carries around a calendar and a notebook with him. When we set up a future lunch date, he writes it down on his paper calendar. When he has an idea or wants to remember something we’ve said, he jots it down in his spiral notebook.

      He is not a luddite; he has a smartphone and all the rest of the technological paraphernalia that you need to exist in the modern world. It’s just that, perhaps at his age, our age, he maybe doesn’t fully trust the technology.

      I really understand why now.

      The other day, I checked my Notes app on my iPhone. You know, where I keep my blood pressure readings and how much I’ve weighed since May 12, 2014 and my list of interesting New York coffee shops and so much more.

      None of it was there.

      All the notes I have taken on the Notes app on my iPhone, gone.

      No folders, no sub-folders, no disguised list of passwords, nothing.

      I didn’t panic. Really. Well, not immediately.

      Instead, I started frantically googling what to do when all your notes disappear. I learned it was not an uncommon problem and there were myriad strategies to fix the problem.

      I tried them all. I followed every direction, every step to rectify the situation suggested by AI, recommended by Google itself, offered by Apple, put forth by Apple Chatroom denizens, described by some guy on YouTube who looked like he had all the answers.

      I’d go step-by-step and then get to the last step and … the last step wasn’t there. At least not on my phone.

      I’d follow the directions carefully but at the last moment their interface didn’t always look like my interface.

      I checked with iCloud—which is supposed to back up everything on my iPhone—and the notes weren’t there either. I booted and re-booted. I uninstalled and re-installed. I went to the deleted folder, as recommended, but of course there was no deleted folder.

      Nothing worked.

      Until, I did something—I still have no idea precisely what—and there, miraculously, were the notes. Right there. My blood pressure reading on Nov. 9, I was happy to see, was indeed 115/85.

      I had spent a feverish two hours or so trying to find my notes. (And I wondered, not for the first time, how do people who are not retired have the time to deal with stuff like this? And stuff like getting to talk to a real person at a big business.) 

      I know technology makes our lives better. It’s great that I can so easily check the weather in Naxos, Greece, and FaceTime with my friend Charles in Limoges. I also know that, on a fairly regular basis, technology drives me crazy.

      I may buy a spiral notebook. You know, just as a backup.