Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Let’s explore the topic of living with women in the digital age



There are too many women in my life. Yeah, I know this a goal a lot of guys work toward their whole lives, yet never achieve. Young guys, anyway. Geezers like me are smarter than that.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having one good woman in my life; hence, The Lovely Mrs. Taylor. Without her I wouldn’t know how fast to drive, which parking space to use at the mall, how to fold a bath towel … I’d be helpless, or so she believes.
The truth is somewhat different, but certain topics are best left unexplored. If I know what’s good for me.
No, it’s the extra women – women brought into the house by Mrs. Taylor herself – who are starting to get on my nerves. As of last week, there are four of them, improbably named Cortana, Siri, Maggie and The New Girl. They’re here and they’re listening. It’s creepy.
Siri arrived first, with my new iPhone. Her, I didn’t mind. I’d ask her a question, like, “Hey Siri! Where can I get a decent burrito around here?” She in turn would recite the Wikipedia entry on Mexican General Santa Anna and his role in the battle of the Alamo. Then I’d Google Mexican restaurants and go buy a burrito.
Siri was mostly useless, but she was confined to my phone like a genie in a bottle, so I could for the most part ignore her. If she felt slighted, she never mentioned it. In a way, she represents the most successful relationship I’ve ever had with a woman.
Then Mrs. Taylor bought me a new desktop PC. I’d been on Macs up until then and was surprised – startled, even – the first time Cortana offered her assistance. I tried to tell her I could bore myself to death on Facebook without her help, but Cortana wouldn’t listen. It’s been months and she still pops up every so often to let me know I’m doing things wrong. Some days her nagging is so bad I feel like a bigamist.
But at least Cortana is stuck in my computer and can only get at me when I’m online, either working or dorking around (or, most often, doing both at the same time. I’m big on multi-tasking).
Maggie is the least obtrusive of the four, since she lives in my car. She’s mounted on the dashboard and takes over the responsibility of telling me where to go and how to get there when Mrs. Taylor is busy with other things.
Despite the fact Maggie is the pushiest of the lot, I still appreciate her. I fully admit I’m directionally challenged and couldn’t find my own backside with both hands without her constant input. Like Mrs. Taylor, Maggie doesn’t waste a lot of time listening to anything I have to say; she just reminds me of the dire consequences awaiting me if I don’t follow her instructions.
I named her Maggie because she reminds of Sister Margaret, my fifth-grade teacher at St. Isadore Elementary School. Like Siri and Cortana, Maggie is conveniently confined to a small box, which I can switch off at will. Or, I can simply get out of the car and walk away, leaving her alone, sometimes for days at a time.
Not so The New Girl. Her name is Alexa and she is ubiquitous and omnipresent. I came home from a night out last week to find Mrs. Taylor had installed Alexa’s eyes and ears all over the house. There’s not one room in which she doesn’t now listen in to everything I say.
When I want to hear some music, I just tell her what I’m in the mood for and she plays it throughout the house. If we’re out of peanut butter and sardines, I say so and Alexa adds them to my grocery list. If I’m interested in the latest presidential wisdom making its way across the Twitter-sphere, she’s there to read it to me.
In theory, Alexa only pays attention when I say her name. But Mrs. T has an extension of Alexa in her office over 30 miles away and she can “drop in” on me anytime from there. In theory, again, I can also drop in on her from home, but I don’t know how to do this so it never happens.
“Drop in” is a cutesy euphemism for “spy on me,” by the way. Mrs. T claims she has better things to do than listen to me talking to the cats and chickens all day, but I wonder. Frequently, the cats, chickens and I are discussing her, and it’s not always complimentary.
Working from home as I do, I used to feel a bit isolated and even lonely at times. I missed the office, my co-workers, even my boss. But these days? Not so much. Not with all these women around, hanging on my every word.

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