The Age of Autocorrect

I’ll call him Robbie, but that is not his real name.

“Dear Sean,” his email began, “My wife is upset because I sent a text to her grandmother for her 91st birthday, but autocorrect screwed it up. Now my wife won’t talk to me.”

Here is what Robbie’s text read:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAD GRANNY…!”

Let me start by saying that you’re not alone, Robbie. Each day, worldwide, there are 23 billion texts sent. That’s 300,000 texts per second. Mistakes happen.

Frankly, yours could have been worse. I have a friend, for example, who was asked to do the scripture reading at church. His elderly pastor called when my friend was “hopping” into the shower.

Enter autocorrect.

My friend’s text read: “Let me call you in a few minutes, I’m just pooping in the shower.”

I have another friend who went on a date with a nice young woman. They had a lovely time, and after the date, they planned a follow-up date via text.

“This Thursday will be fun!” texted my friend.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again!” came her reply.

“Yay!” my friend texted. “I can’t wait to see those big beautiful dimples!”

Unfortunately, my friend hit the send button before he realized autocorrect had changed “dimples” into a word that rhymes with “fipples.”

I know a man who was texting with his adult daughter, just last week, when autocorrect came into the picture.

His daughter texted, “What are you doing, Dad?”

Her father’s reply came back, “Just looking at boobs right now.”

“What?”

Realizing that autocorrect had struck again, the father tried to repair the damage by sending a follow-up text, in all caps:

“I MEANT I’M BUYING A PAIR OF COWBOY BOOBS!” he texted.

The daughter texted back. “No judgement.”

So we can see that autocorrect is not always our friend.

Then there was the time my uncle texted his adult children that he and my aunt had just booked a trip to Disney in their RV. He let the family know via text.

The text read: “Big news, guys! Your mother and I are going to Divorce!”

Sadly, before he could correct his mistake, he dropped his phone into the RV toilet. He will get out of the ICU any day now.

Which leads us to me. One of my most embarrassing texting mishaps happened only a few weeks ago.

I was in the supermarket. I was in a hurry for an important appointment. I ran into one of my old Sunday school teachers in the produce aisle.

This woman is a nice woman, but she is also a staunch fundamentalist who has not smiled since the Herbert Hoover administration. Neither does she buy life insurance because it is considered a form of gambling.

We had a brief conversation whereupon I checked my watch and abruptly apologized because I needed to leave.

Later, I felt bad for dashing away so quickly. So I texted her:

“I’m sorry I had to leave so soon, but I really had to dart.”

I hit send before proofreading the last word.

The reply came back: “I do not need to know about your bathroom habits, Sean Dietrich.”

So don’t fret over the mistakes, Robbie. Mistakes happen. It’s all just part of living in this modern, technological age.

Remind your wife’s grandmother, sincerely, that autocorrect can either be your best friend or your worst enema.