Today is the 25th anniversary, give or take a few years, of my entry into the precise world of modern technology. Twenty-five years ago, more or less, I finally put away my abacus and bought my first computer.

It was an impressive machine, a dynamo of computing power so powerful it could almost do as much as the calculator watch I have on today, if you didn’t mind strapping a two-ton Macintosh II to your wrist.

In fact, that first computer could do amazing things, like add numbers and type, and also add numbers and type. As I clearly remember it, people would walk down the street, their heads down, carrying their two-ton machines and furiously typing up status updates to their friends, including details about their hernias.

Technology, of course, has come a long way since then. I haven’t.

Every time I learn how to work some new technological device, the new thing is replaced by a new thing that is more complicated and frequently laughs at you for not understanding Step 5 of the “easy-to-use” instructions.

Yes, I do have a desktop and a laptop and a smartphone, a microwave and an oven that knows when to beep after the french fries are sufficiently carbonized. I have a device in my car that tells me how many more miles I can go until I’m completely lost — and then directs me in a sultry voice to another place where I can get lost all over again.

I have apps galore (not related to the mobster of the same name), a digital camera and four remote controls for my one TV. I have HD which looks pretty much like the old D. I have even managed to listen to my friend Mitch talk for 45 minutes about his new Apple watch (and how it could solve the Sunday crossword, in pen, if only it wanted to).

Still, I remain one innovation behind.

I realized this the other day when I began contemplating cord-cutting. Like many of you, I of course first thought this had to do with getting wood ready for the upcoming winter.

Then I realized this was about paying enormous and growing sums for the opportunity to not watch 154 different television channels. Each time I don’t watch The Lasagna Channel it costs me money and I figured there had to be some better way.

Apparently, everyone else already had figured that out. According to recent figures, American cable and satellite companies collectively lost more than 600,000 subscribers in the second quarter of this year, and haven’t been able to find them even though they’ve looked everywhere, including under the couch cushions.

I want to join those who have said no, I want to cut the cord, but I’m scared this will be one more set of “easy-to-follow” instructions I won’t be able to follow, a new technology that is so simple it can only be understood if you strap it to your wrist.

I think I’ll play with my abacus.