Article
by Pippa Kay published in Ita Magazine, November 1990.
I
have a son who is notorious for reading instructions. I don't know where
he gets it from; certainly not his mother. I pull when I should push,
open the milk carton from the wrong side and prefer analogue watches
because they are easier to adjust.
I
think my son was impressed from an early age by a message on a paint
tin saying: "If all else fails, read the instructions." I
thought this was amusing but not to be taken too seriously.
Breakfast
cereal packages were another early influence. He learned to read by
reading from cereal packages, and could quote Recommended Daily Vitamin
Intakes, and Nutritional Information details for various different types
of cereal. Early maths involved working out how many bowls of cereal
were needed each day for maximum nutrition.
When
my son washes his hair he has to take an extra towel, a comb and a stopwatch
into the bathroom. This is so he can work the lather through his hair
for exactly 60 seconds, rinse, repeat, rinse again then towel dry and
comb the conditioner through his hair to the very tips for at least
five minutes before the final rinse. My grandmother used to wash her
hair with plain soap!
The
ability to read instructions is becoming more and more important as
packaging becomes more complex. These days it is not enough just to
open a paper bag or unscrew a lid. There are usually perforated dots
to be unzipped after you have broken through the outer plastic skin
and then you are likely to find individually wrapped "stay fresh"
packs inside.
We've
come a long way since our ancestors learned to use fire to cook. Just
think of the time we save not having to first go out and catch a chook,
chop its head off, pluck and clean it, build a good fire, fetch water
from the well or river, fill a large pot, put the chook in the water,
and hey presto, in a few hours it's cooked.
Now,
we go in the car to the supermarket to buy a frozen chook and a few
other things while we are there. After reading the instructions on the
plastic wrapper and taking notes on a convenient piece of paper, we
"Program Defrost" it in the microwave for so many minutes
per pound or kilogram. This depends when and where your recipe book
was printed and you will need a calculator to work this out. Hopefully,
there is a metric/imperial converter somewhere handy in the kitchen
if someone hasn't used it as a notepad for the phone. If it's not a
solar cell calculator you'll have to allow time for finding batteries,
because the kids have invariably taken them. If there aren't any live
batteries in the house then you'll have to go back to the supermarket
to get some.
Now
that you have the chook ready for cooking you'll have to decide which
appliance to use: the oven with its door held together by a complicated
arrangement of elastic bands and bent wire coathangers; the new steamer
your mother-in-law gave you last Christmas; the electric frypan or the
microwave, and of course, read the relevant instructions. (Hint: if
you can't understand them you may be reading the wrong language - look
for the English translation and you may need a magnifying glass.) If
you are conscientious about your diet, you must also consider the number
of calories (or kilojoules - again you'll need your metric/imperial
converter and calculator) and the amount of cholesterol involved in
the various different methods of cooking.
There's
no doubt that technology has forced a label fixation on to our society
and so a son who reads and interprets them accurately is a useful asset
for any household. These days it is not safe to put anything into your
mouth without reading the label, there are so many additives and preservatives
in our food. The truly efficient household should have a code-breaker
for these near the metric converter, near the calculator, near the notepad,
near the phone which should be near the kitchen.
Blackouts
are a real hazard in a modern home. Absolutely nothing can be done until
they are over but then the work begins.
We
have six digital clocks to reset not including the video, the microwave
oven, the swimming pool filter and the computer. All have different
instructions and most of them are in Japanese, but my son seems to be
proficient at all of them. He likes to have them all coordinated to
the tiniest fraction of a second.
We
made an interesting discovery recently - namely that analogue clocks
stop at the time of the blackout whereas digital clocks revert to 12.00,
so if a blackout occurs during the night while you were asleep, the
morning after can be confusing.
There
are less and less things that we can use safely today without reading
the instructions, so I should probably follow my sons example and take
instructions seriously. But there are some things I can't take seriously,
like an advertisement for an "instruction book for the mind"
- presumably something you can buy or get by attending a course of lectures
and paying a lot of money.
The
promoters seem to believe that God made a big mistake when he made man
and forgot the instruction book and, of course, they intend to remedy
the situation. They say: "The most amazing thing about the mind
is that no instruction book came with it." I don't think that's
amazing at all, but I suppose if anyone does find that amazing then
they may need some help with using it, and perhaps there is a market
for an instruction book of the mind after all. I've been using my mind
for most of my life without an instruction book but perhaps I'm just
old-fashioned.
(c)
Pippa Kay