Gettin' too old for this shit...

Goddammit.
I ain't got time for this shit.
Okay, let's be calm, be cool, be reasonable.
I am a fully-grown adult.
I am not going to let a car - no matter HOW new-fangled - beat me.
I've been programming for thirty years.
This is simpler.
Or at least it SHOULD BE.

What's the point of all this futuristic jazz-ma-tazz if it takes a frickin' genius to figure out how to get it started?
'Oh well it's easier now.'
Yeah, may-frickin'-be.
'Course, it ain't easier for all the old bastards like me who grew up on KEYS and GAS PEDALS and TRANSMISSIONS and stuff that already worked.
I don't know what peoples' deals are; they're just redesigning this shit because they can.
'Oh we'll do better than our predecessors.'
Bull-fucking-shit.
This is like anytime someone wants to rewrite an already-working program from scratch.
'Oh, but the code's getting so messy, we're having to spend too much time understanding what all this old arcane stuff does!'
Then they go reinvent the wheel, run into all the same problems the previous team already solved, fall years behind their competition, and lose billions of dollars.
That's usually enough to bankrupt the non-giant companies.
And on top of everything else?
Their new code usually isn't all that great.
Just to get thinks working again.
It's bad enough when they do it to perfectly good software, but it's downright inexcusable when they do it to MY CAR.
Frustrated, I call Scotty.
"Hey Dad, hows?"
"Dammit boy, talk full sentences to your elders."
"You're not that old, yet."
"Enough-a yer bellyachin', how do I get this damn thing started?"
"What damn thing?"
"This car you bought me, jackass!"
"You're welcome."
"Fix it!"
"Dad, we'd been over this before."
"Refresh my memory."
"Really, it's kind of annoying how you can spend so much time memorizing all the minutia about a new processor or piece of code you're working on, but the moment one of us starts talking about something outside your happy little world-"
"Less ranting more fixing!"
"... Fine. Just say your password."
"Password?"
"Yeah. It's voice-activated. You just say your password in your usual voice, and it turns everything on. Then you just tell it where you want to go."
"Oh. Well what's my password?"
"Goddammit."
"What? That's not such a bad question! Frankly it's kind of relevant-"
"No, your password is 'goddammit'."
"... You serious?"
"Yeah. That's the first thing you said after it asked you."
"... Goddammit."
I hear a mechanical voice from inside the shell.
*PASSWORD ACCEPTED*
... Goddammit.