Anyway, back to my mom, who occasionally shows up here in a cameo appearance. Until this year the Internet was a theoretical thing for my mother. If she needed something from it she’d use a verbal query, something like “Jack (my dad), will you look up Oprah Winfrey’s tv schedule for me?” Or whatever. If I wanted to send her an email I’d send it to my dad and he’d print it out for her and then type back whatever she said after reading it.

I honestly considered getting her one of those ridiculous Presto printers. Instead I bought her an iMac and my dad showed her how to do email.

And since then, for months and months now, I receive an email a day from my mom with a 1995-era joke, usually of the sickeningly cute variety. Or an email admonishing me to “be nicer to people in your posts.” Like these (all actual emails from my mom):

and

and

Of course I’ve shared this with the TechCrunch team internally as a sort of cathartic exercise. Apparently I’m not the only one with relatives living in another era:

What to do? Never let her find out about Twitter and Facebook, that’s what. I love you, Mom, I really do. I’ve never once hit “report spam” on one of your emails, and I save them all. Just…please…stop.

0 0

1 1

3 3
4 4

5 5 6 6 7 7 8 8 9 9 0 0

Authors: Michael Arrington

to know more click here