Technology is trying to take over our lives
Arrrghhhh. I bought an iWatch. I think that is what it is called. It was a bargain on Amazon. I bought it because I was told that if, while wearing it, I fell and didn’t pop up within five minutes, it would send out an alarm, and three fire trucks, six police cars, seven ambulances and a partridge in a pear tree would arrive to assist me to my feet.
What I was not told was that this charming little pink thing would start to take over my life. It would begin to tell me what to do and when. If I do not complete my circle of exercise and refuse to run laps around the dining room table it gets ornery.
It tells me how many calories I must burn off to meet its standard. How many feet my feet must travel to meet its daily goal. Was I consulted? No. I don’t know when all these various things began.
I also do not have clue one to tell me when I should check the stock market, the weather, my email, the world clock, some weird face, and a variety of symbols I cannot interpret and am afraid to.
Where did they come from?
I am told when it is time to stand up. There are times when it is not convenient to stand up. If I am in church, I am not going to stand up in the middle of Ann Marie’s sermon. I would not want to confess my watch ordered me to stand up.
At other times, it tells me that I must take time for “mindfulness.” It assumes I have
a mind. I tell you right now that it is often full of regret that I ever bought this instrument of torture that lives on my wrist.
My cardiologist told me to put an app on my phone to take my own ECGs.
Do my own ECGs? What madness is this?
Yes, he said. Then, he told me, I was to send the “strips” to his office to blah, blah, blah so he could monitor my heart.
My dimwitted look prevailed and saliva leaked from the left corner of my mouth.
“Perhaps your daughter can help you with this?”
“MMmnnnnbggggff,” I mumbled as I left this holiest of medical halls.
The result was this. I became obsessed. I was doing ECGs every 18 seconds except while sleeping. I did them at red lights, while watching movies, after loading the dishwasher and while having my teeth cleaned — at least the lower ones. I finally shook myself severely and stopped it.
Then a rapid heartbeat was waking me up at night. I was told to take the ECG when this happened. By the time I could sit up in bed, find the app on my watch, and touch the crown thingy, the tap dancing in my chest stopped.
My family and I were talking about some of the British press’s attitude toward Meghan Markel and Prince Harry. Out of nowhere came this piping voice saying, “According to my web research, England has had two black Queens.”
Neither of my daughters has silly voices. I looked around and at the television wondering if we had the history channel on. No.
But Siri, that little imp on my watch, apparently was listening and decided to join our
conversation.
Since then, she has offered her FIFA favorites, the best recipe for corned beef hash, and favored hairstyles for women of my age. I want to know how she knows how old I am.
Her cutesy voice interrupts conversations. She wants to be included. Am I supposed to put her on birthday gift lists? Enroll her in junior college? Buy her a winter coat? Send her to music camp?
How far do I have to go with this unseen pest who is invading my home?
I’ve thought about burying this watch under a full moon in a remote field, dancing around a fire, while tossing potato skins in the air. But afraid, as in Poe’s story, “The Tell-Tale Heart,” I would ever be plagued with a tiny voice in the night demanding that I stand up or sit down or roll over.
I am very frightened.
As it is, my iPhone knows way too much about me. These two are in cahoots. Heaven knows what they are up to in the night while I sleep.
Susan Keezer lives in Adrian. Send your good news to her atlenaweesmiles@gmail.com.
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