Recently, my hometown installed a new method of payment in the parking garages. When you leave, you flash your cell phone with the QR app, linked to your credit card, at the kiosk. This replaces a perfectly good system where you inserted your credit card into the machine to pay.

I’ve had trouble with QR codes since they were introduced during the pandemic to replace menus in restaurants. Many times I’ve had to ask my dining companions to share the menus on their phone or beg the waitstaff for a paper copy, which is often out of date. In any case it doesn’t make for a leisurely perusal of the menu.

As hard as I try, I feel like I’m always several steps behind the latest technology, floundering at the cash register or parking garage, giving every indication that I have early dementia—or worse, that I’m an old lady. Yet I have to admit that technology has helped me and fellow seniors cope with the afflictions of getting older. It’s made life easier in so many ways. I think of my partially blind friend who can ask Siri to put on her favorite music or dial someone on the phone.

The technology I’m most grateful for is Google Maps. Because of my poor sense of direction, I’d be lost, quite literally, without it. Otherwise, I would have to write down detailed directions or else strain to read the small print on old maps that don’t include new subdivision. (And just try to find new maps.) Once in the Chicago area, driving my elderly parents to my niece’s house, my cell phone stopped working, and I had to stop at numerous stores along the way to find my way on all the crazy numbered highways (“Just go to 52, get on 23, then get off on 71”). We arrived about an hour late.

As we become more isolated as we age (friends die, children move away), a social media platform like Facebook can reconnect us with high school friends, former co-workers and the sister-in-law you lost touch with after she and your brother divorced. You can feel like you’re part of a larger community. I think of the elder orphans group on Facebook where people who don’t have children share stories of loneliness but also advice for how to meet people. It doesn’t take the place of personal connection, but it can be more meaningful than sitting home alone talking to your cat.

Similarly, for those unable (because of physical problems) or unwilling (because of snowy roads) to leave the house, Zoom (and other video conference programs) lets people meet and converse with others. It’s not the same as sitting in a room together, but online we can discuss the current political situation or hear lectures about arthritis.

I don’t know how I lived without Spotify. Not only can I easily find my favorite music, the music service pretty quickly figures out what I like and puts together playlists that also introduce me to similar musical artists. I can find my old favorites from the 1970s without thumbing through my scratched and worn record albums or the chewed-up cassette tapes. I can follow my curiosity about current popular musicians without having to buy their albums. 

With the internet, I no longer have to rely on my (faulty) memory to make favorite meals: do I use lentils or pinto beans for that soup recipe? I admit it’s a pleasure looking through my old cookbooks stained with flour or cherry juice, and with penciled notes for changes I made in the recipe, but the internet is faster.

I no longer have to depend on my memory or my doctor’s (especially when I have six specialists) for my medical history. Many documents and tests—when I had my last mammogram or colonoscopy—are stored online. And it’s all connected in some unseen network, so when I see my primary care provider, she has the x-rays, lab results and notes from another doctor. Of course, I also miss the days when one doctor had all our files, and a friendly receptionist was always available to answer questions. But those days are long past.

With the internet, I don’t have to thumb through an old phone book to find the name of a restaurant or find a plumber, and I can see how each is rated. If I want to find the best time of the day to take a walk, I can get the weather forecast hour by hour. When I’m planning a vacation I can find lists of lodgings—and reviews— on websites and make a reservation rather than comb through an old guidebook that recommends only three or four places—often no longer in business.

There’s no doubt that aging makes driving more difficult, whether due to less flexibility or focus. But with rear-view cameras we don’t have to turn our less-flexible necks to see if someone is behind us in a parking lot.

Now I’m looking forward to reliable self-driving cars. Hopefully by the time I have to give up driving, these cars will compensate for my poor sense of direction and concentration. Siri, take me home.