This is a rant, of the grumpy-old-man variety. Two weeks ago I was staying at my parents’ apartment because my home in New Jersey was without power, thanks to Hurricane Sandy. “Oh, Sonny, I’m glad you’re here,” my mother told me when I arrived. “I need you to help me set up the DVD player.” I love my mom to bits and pieces, but sometimes it’s like a bad sitcom with her: The tech writer son tries to help his mother (who still refers to the refrigerator as the “icebox,” by the way) do something he thinks is the easiest thing in the world but to her is akin to landing the Mars Rover. Read the full story at Business Week.