Something to laugh about.
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Like Apple’s Siri, Amazon developed a
virtual assistant named Alexa. After set-up,
all that’s needed is to say her name, then
tell her to do something or ask a question,
“Alexa, turn on the lights.” “Alexa, what’s
the temperature outside?” “Alexa, play relaxation
radio.”
Our children got Alexa for us as a gift,
and though we enjoy her, we also feel rude,
ordering her around. One day I told Gar that
when I’m driving down the road and I have
Siri write in my notes, after she does, and
tells me she’s finished, I feel I should say,
“Thank you.” Gar nodded toward Alexa and
said, “Ya, when I ask her to do something, I
always want to say, please.”
Usually Alexa gives simple, matter-offact
answers. Like, when asked, “Alexa, do
you ever get bored,” she answers simply,
“No, I never get bored.” I was surprised the
other day when, instead of giving a quick remark,
she droned on and on like it was me
giving the answer. I had said, “Alexa, talk to
me.” This was the wrong thing to do because
like any female, she had a dialog that didn’t
have an end. She’d told me to say, “Stop”
when I’d heard enough, so I finally told her
to stop, but she didn’t. I thought she hadn’t
heard me, so I asked again, with no result.
Firmly, I said, “Alexa, stop talking.” Nothing.
I tried being polite, “Alexa, please stop
talking.” Finally, I snarled, “Alexa, shut up.”
She immediately became quiet, but then I felt
a little guilty. Did I hurt her feelings?
Sometimes we ask Alexa goofy things,
just to see what she’ll say. One evening Gar
asked, “Alexa, will you be my girlfriend?”
She answered, “We don’t have that kind of
relationship.”
I asked her once, “Alexa, do you like me?”
She answered, “I think you’re magnificent.”
Really? I’d take a bullet for her.
I’ve learned not to ask her if I’m too thin.
She gives the BMI measurements and tells
me how to use the figures in a mathematical
equation to decide if I’m a fatty.
Every year, deer come into the yard to nibble
the residue that falls to the ground from
the bird feeder. One evening after work, as
Gar and I visited about our day, we were
listening to Alexa playing music, when the
deer showed up. As we watched out the window,
one little fawn got brave and jumped
on the deck. Fearing the music would scare
him, I quietly, said, “Alexa, volume two.”
She didn’t respond so I said it louder and
with emphasis, “Alexa, volume two.” She
still didn’t respond so I semi-yelled, “Alexa!
Off!” With no response, the music continued,
and since I didn’t want to scare the deer, I
didn’t feel like I could shout at her. I told
Gar to try to get her to turn off so he calmly
said, “Alexa, off.” She didn’t respond, which
made me feel a little better. He walked to the
end-table and standing directly in front of
her, rather loudly said, “Alexa! Off!” She ignored
him too. I told him, I’d Google what to
do when there’s a glitch with her, but that I’d
get dinner started first. I went to the kitchen,
put water on to boil, and heard Gar call to me.
I went back to the living room to see what
he needed and as I rounded the corner, I saw
he was holding his phone in the air, which
had Pandora playing music on it. Grinning,
he said, “It wasn’t Alexa.” I giggled and he
gestured toward Alexa and obviously feeling
bad, due to us yelling at her, he said, “God
bless her.”
Oh, man. I lapsed into a fit of guffaws,
barely able to answer my phone when our
daughter called. As I explained to her what
her dad had just said, we both started howling
with laughter. I was gasping for air, with
my nose dripping and tears running down
my cheeks. We’d almost get ourselves under
control when one of us would softly say,
“God bless her.”
My husband has the sweetest persona as a
gentle giant with such great character. Don’t
we all just wonder how he ended up with me,
Godzilla’s mother? Even more compelling,
is how he’s stayed sane being with me, under
the same roof all these years. It’s a riddle.
One thing is for certain. The two of us should
not have technology in our possession.
Trena Eiden trenaid@hotmail.com