“If you can’t explain it to a six year old, you don’t understand it yourself.” – Albert Einstein

Just when I thought I had a pretty good handle on this adventure called The Golden Years, I hit a snag. It appeared in the form of a Christmas present my husband received from our daughter ten years ago. I remember this, because Christmas 2005 happened just four months after we were wiped out by Katrina, a rather unforgettable personal milestone. She wanted to give him something special, something she knew he’d love: the 17-disc, boxed set collection, The Beatles.

I found it in the closet this past weekend, and it was like Christmas all over again! It was a dreary, dank day, perfect for cleaning the house, and I was excited at the discovery of these awesome tunes which would most certainly make doing the chores a lot more fun. But then the awful reality hit me: I had no way of playing these CDs!!! My enthusiasm skidded into a disappointing dead end.

In this era of iTunes-everything, the simple pleasure of listening to music has become so complicated. Our home’s audio-video set-up confounds me, and therefore is my husband’s realm. He vainly attempted to explain how I could listen to the CDs (if I really wanted to), but I didn’t want to “stream” anything through the computer. I just wanted to pop in a CD and enjoy The Beatles. How is it that we are surrounded by so many conveniences, and yet be stymied by the desire to do something so simple?

It was almost frightening how quickly I became a woman possessed. I was bound and determined to play these CDs even if I had to resort to playing them on my grandchildren’s boom box, which was upstairs in their room. When I couldn’t locate the power cord, the point of frustration hit its peak. As is my modus operandi, I had to remove myself from the situation (ok, escape) and decided to make a run to the grocery store for a few things. When I returned a short while later, I entered our home and heard the undeniable sound of the Fab Four, and profusely thanked my husband for making me so happy and ensuring his own sanity in the process. The saying, “When mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy,” is an absolute fact of life in our house.

Now that I’ve had a couple of days to reflect, I realize just how much I appreciate simple. Technology, of course, is wonderful, but at my age, I’m satisfied with knowing just enough to get by. Besides, I know I’ll get by with a little help from my friends. ?