The Pencil and the Paint Stick: Adapting to Technology

Like most people, I've had to adapt to new technologies numerous times over my lifetime. Fortunately, I've always been up to the challenge -- except for that one time.

When I was in high school, it was pretty easy. There was usually someone there to teach me the ropes. That was the whole idea. Of course, all that involved was a typewriter. So, after taking the basic typewriting class, I felt prepared to embark on my collegiate experience. It was an experience I enjoyed a little too much. I graduated on the five-year plan.

In fact, I liked it so much, I went back for graduate school. That's where things began to get hairy. For the most part, we still used typewriters. However, when it came time to write the inevitable thesis, I was introduced to a word processor, better known as a computer. It was a lifesaver. I was a graduate teaching assistant, so the office staff taught me how to operate this amazing machine, which meant I no longer had to buy reams of paper. I could just save my work on a thing called a "floppy disc." Smooth.

However, once I entered the workforce, everything changed. I soon found out that I'd be expected to learn by the seat of my pants -- literally. Today, nearly everything is accomplished by sitting in front of a computer. That's why I now cherish the comfy chair that accompanies my desk. It doesn't correct my posture, but it's soft, yet firm, and very maneuverable.

On my desk, is a laptop. Through this amazing portal, I can reach the outer limits of cyberspace -- with the proper training.

Ah, the need for proper training. Let's examine that thought for moment. Someday, you will be faced with a problem that all the training in the world couldn't possibly help you to resolve. Proper training doesn't hurt, but it doesn't always provide you with the best-possible solution to immediately solve a mysterious problem.

That's what reminds me of the amazing story of the "Pencil and the Paint Stick."

My first job out of graduate school was working in the newsroom of a mid-sized daily newspaper. Our Associated Press feed arrived via satellite. It was connected to a small computer with a monitor located in the "computer room," which was nothing more than a closet in the back shop. The setup usually performed admirably.

Then, it happened. I arrived early one morning to find that the Associated Press feed had apparently died in its sleep. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't properly trained to handle the situation, but there was no one else around. Fortunately, we were an afternoon paper. So, I contacted our "IT" person. She soon arrived, assessed the situation, located the problem, and came up with the most out-of-the-box solution imaginable.

All she needed was a pencil and a paint stick. She jammed the pencil into the keyboard and kept it in place by the downward pressure created by placing one end of the paint stick under the monitor and other atop the pencil. It worked like a charm. The feed began flowing, again. Her ingenuity had saved the day. A faulty key had caused the disconnection.

That, my friends, is what I call adapting to technology. That was 27 years ago, and I've still never seen anything else like it. You won't find that solution in any training or repair manual or learn it in a seminar. It's just old-fashioned ingenuity based on the old adage "Necessity is the mother of invention."

That's why I'm the Director of Sales, Marketing, and Communications and not IT. In fact, I'm not even allowed to perform any technological functions. That's my youthful partner's realm of responsibility. I think I'll get him a pencil and a paint stick for his birthday -- just to be safe.

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