If you’ve read any of my Bull Creek stories, then you’ve visited Everglades. Now, this rustic bar has undergone some changes over the years, including adding another owner who wants to see the place thrive. Jake’s added on a new addition, as well as a patio to the side of the building, brought in darts, arcade games, and even added another pool table, all while Wes grumbles about how he preferred the place the way it was before Jake arrived on the scene. However, the one thing Wes refuses to give up is the broken-down jukebox that Alanna keeps dropping Josh’s quarters into. It still works, even if only barely. The records are scratchy, and the poor box has been beaten to hell and back on more than one occasion. Still, Wes refuses to replace it with something newer and fancier.
And I get it. So does my dad. And Teri. We don’t like change. My dad had a flip phone up until my mom passed away, refusing to get a newer one with all the fancy apps and capabilities. His worked, and he saw no reason to switch. The only reason he took my mom’s phone when she died is because it was my mom’s phone.
Teri was just as bad when Blackberry stopped making their phone and we moved her over to the Android. She hated it, and continued to use her Blackberry until we hid it on her, forcing her into the new era. She’ll use a phone until it dies if she can, simply because she doesn’t want to go through the hassle of fixing the new one to meet her needs. I mean, downloading apps, logging into things with passwords you don’t even remember, trying to find everything now because nothing is where it was on the other phone. It’s chaos.
I think of that every time a new Kindle comes out. This one will do this and that and the other thing, but I don’t care. Mine works, and I don’t need this, that, or the other thing. Laptops are the same. I had to replace my keyboard recently, and it’s still not acting right, but I love it. It’s small, light, and has all my Dean Martin music on it. I see no sense in going with something else. That is until the space bar stops working and I get so frustrated I almost throw the thing through the window. As long as it works, I’ll keep using it.
It’s the same with writing software and processes that keep popping up. They look flashy and promise great things to make me more productive, but I can’t help it. I like the way I do things now. It works for me. It fits my routines and patterns and, as I said above, I hate change. It was chaos when I went digital with everything and gave up my copious amounts of notebooks. I probably