Since I was born with a highly creative and sometimes over-active imagination, I often wondered what it would be like to visit another inhabited planet.

How would we communicate? Would we understand each other?

I think I found my answer last week, and I didn’t have to ride in a motion-sickness-inducing spacecraft to reach this alien planet.

My little red chariot transported me to not one but several of these strange other worlds.

The odd journey began with the death of my beloved cellphone, a little flip model I carried for over 10 years whenever I left the house.

I used it exclusively for making telephone calls. Isn’t that the purpose of a phone?

It neither had nor needed a camera. I own a perfectly fine camera, so my cellphone was allowed to be just a phone.

Texting was nothing I had an interest in, so I’m not sure if that phone could do it or not. I never tried.

Why type to someone, and wait for him to type back, when much more quickly I can call and hear his voice?

My old cellphone with its little antenna seemed to be an object of amusement to the young high-tech employees working in stores that sell technology products.

Without exception, these stores quickly proved to be the foreign planets I had imagined visiting.

Sales people talked of apples, lollipops, marshmallows, clouds and even blue teeth. Was I in a grocery store?

I definitely was in a cloud.

As I tested various display models of newer cellphones and asked tons of questions, several times I glanced up and saw employees rolling their eyes at each other.

We were not communicating well, probably because we don’t speak the same language. To say I am low-tech is an exaggeration; I am better described as no-tech.

Nevertheless, after thoroughly researching cell phones in Consumer Reports and other publications, and consulting with friends and relatives, I decided to buy a smartphone model.

It is, I learned, an Android, another unfamiliar term that reminds me of an outer space animal.

To my surprise and horror, no operating manual was included in the box. Why?! Even my old flip phone came with a 64-page instruction booklet.

I had to ask the sales rep to show me how to make a phone call! That’s outrageous. By the way, lessons from staff, I was told, are not part of the deal.

Fortunately I had read about an easy mode setting that some phones have, and I made sure to choose one of those senior-friendly models. Easy mode pares down the features to the essentials.

Other important features for older adults include the ability to adjust screen brightness and make the text and icons and fonts larger and bolder. Some phones have settings for users with hearing and visual problems.

Seniors should make sure the phone is a comfortable size that fits the hand. Look for a large, sharp display, even in bright sunshine, and choose a model known for its long battery life. Water resistance may also be a plus. It was for me.

Typing with arthritic hands or fat fingers is made easier with a stylus, as I quickly learned.

Some phones feature replaceable batteries and accommodate a microSD card to upgrade memory cheaply.

My experience visiting those exotic planets was eye-opening. I truly felt like an unwelcome invader in that high-tech world.

Perhaps stores selling technology products might consider employing a few older adults who can better relate to senior customers. Consumers who know little about these modern devices should not be treated with boredom or disdain, as I was at times.

We need staff with patience and a willingness to at least demonstrate the basics and answer questions.

Right now I know five people who are watching my success (or lack of) with this new phone before they, too, make the switch from flip phones.

At the moment, my phone is smarter than I am. With the right instruction, however, I hope to change that equation.

Perhaps then the little gadget will feel like a familiar friend instead of like an alien intruder lurking in the bottom of my purse.