I'm a 28-year-old gadget nerd. Like many of my generation, I don't often read instruction manuals. In dealings with parents, relatives and older friends, I've often struggled to wrap my head around what it is about technology that so fundamentally baffles members of generations past. Is it a fear of experimentation with the unknown? How can something that feels imprinted on my DNA be so utterly foreign to someone else? It's a feeling shared by any son or daughter visiting home who, after a quick hug from mom and dad, is led unsubtly by the arm over to the computer desk: "Fix this. Please."
But recently I've had some illuminating moments of empathy. And they've all come behind the wheel.