September 3, 2009
“When giving or taking advice, the road runs both ways ." -- Proverb
I was reminded the other night just how much the giving or taking of advice is a two-way street when my son called wanting counsel on how to fry chicken like grandma's. He thought it sounded good for dinner and longed for her special recipe for old-fashioned "Fried Chicken Baked."
I was happy to advise, of course, but at that particular moment I was in need of some advice myself.
I needed to know how to download a particular ringtone to my cell phone since I tried for an hour already without success. My frustration level was mounting. I wanted the ringtone download to happen now.
My excuse--I was on a technology overload that day. He was simply hungry for a chicken dinner.
This son, by the way, has lots of nifty ringtones, many assigned to individual callers. He also has the same type of phone I have, so his advice should provide a quick solution to my problem, I figured.
He could fry his chicken later.
Our conversation went something like this.
Phone rings and son asks pleasantly, " So, Mom, can you tell me how Grandma used to fry chicken. It sounds good for dinner."
"Ok, sure," I answered brushing off his request, "But first, I need help on something."
"I tried to download this particular ringtone on my phone for over an hour, and I can't get it done; it is driving me crazy. I called your younger brothers and my computer guru friend already. Why can't I do this?"
Besides the ringtone download problem, I explained to my son, I had a technological, social-networking nightmare of a day.
Early in the day, I received two requests to be "Linkedin" on a networking site that as advertised allows friends to help you with your career and vice versa. I never heard of it, but joined anyway. Somewhere in the process, I apparently checked a box effectively asking everyone in my address book if they would like to be "Linkedin" with me, like it or not. Sorry folks.
I told my son that I spent another hour unraveling technical problems snarling up my sister's Facebook page.
Furthermore, I was exasperated when I checked my two Twitter accounts and noticed that "followers" from one page were now following me on the other. Naively, I believed one page would be for writing interests, the other for a cause. I'm new at this.
Thus, when my son called I was already frustrated deciding that my need for ringtone advice trumped his need for a fried chicken recipe.
I was wrong.
"Mom," he began more urgently when he finally got a chance to speak, "I have a problem. "I already floured the chicken and put it in the oven. It's done, but it still looks white and it doesn't look like Grandma's. Should I have browned it first? It's cooking fast; I need to do something now!"
The epilogue:
I advised him to get the chicken out of the oven immediately and brown it after baking instead of beforehand. The chicken would be salvaged and still tasty.
He then advised me to unplug the device (phone) from my laptop so that the download would be salvaged and finalized. Duh.
How to fry chicken. How to download a ringtone. Yep, the advice road does indeed run both ways.
