When I started freelancing, I decided I needed a smart phone—you know, to stay connected, keep my business in the palm of my hand, and all that. But here's the thing. When they sell you a "smart" phone, they don't tell you that you might well be too "stupid" to use it. I couldn't even touch the touch screen correctly until two teenagers sat down with me, one on either side, and talked me through the basics. (Pictured above are Abby and Adam, executive technology advisors for Goin' Down to Mama's.) Each morsel of instruction was followed by, "Here, Aunt Val—let me show you," as I couldn't master even the simplest tasks without a demonstration. And once I turned that thing on, it seemed to have a mind of its own, randomly calling friends and family without provocation. "I'm sorry—I seem to have accidentally called you," I told my friend Katie one morning. I could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "Val, you've actually called me several times this morning." In my defense, my first phone was a big black rotary dial, hardwired to the wall in my grandmother's hallway and shared by the whole family—AND it was on an 8-party line. I'd like to see this young generation of text-messaging whiz kids spend a whole morning waiting for Mertis down the street to finish talking to her mama so they could make a call. Still, when my ship comes in and I'm so successful I have to incorporate and hire a staff, my very first hire will be a director of technology and social media. Which is to say, my very first hire will be a teenager.
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