“No,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Show your father some respect. I just added Google to my taskbar.”
He clicked a promising link. A video started playing automatically, blaring synth music. A cursor zipped across the screen like a caffeinated mosquito. “First, you’re gonna wanna go ahead and locate your browser, okay?” the voice said. Arthur didn’t know what a browser was. Was it the fox thing? The compass? The blue swirl?
Lily looked at the screen. She looked at him. For a split second, a tiny, genuine smile cracked her teenage facade. “Oh,” she said softly. “Good job, Dad.” how do i add google to my taskbar
The user was a man named Arthur. He was 47, a devoted father of two, and a man who had, until that very moment, believed he was reasonably competent with technology. He had a good job, paid his taxes, and could assemble IKEA furniture without swearing. But tonight, his laptop had betrayed him.
It had happened earlier that evening. His daughter, Lily, needed to print a book report. “Just drag the file to the printer icon, Dad,” she’d said. Arthur had stared at the screen. Printer icon? Everything had vanished. The little search bar he used to type “Google” into—the one that always took him to the familiar, comforting white page with the colorful letters—was gone. In its place was a blank taskbar, a terrifying digital void. “No,” he said, puffing out his chest
And there it was. A tiny “G” icon. A perfect, obedient little square.
He tried dragging the Google logo from the middle of the screen down to the taskbar. It snapped back like a rubber band. He tried dragging the little padlock icon in the address bar. Nothing. He right-clicked the taskbar. “Search,” he whispered. “Hide? Show? No. ADD. GOOGLE.” A video started playing automatically, blaring synth music
He clicked it.