Conversations with Alexa

(UPDATE: Thank you to everyone who has prayed for my respiratory issues lately! I am breathing much better this week, with no congestion!)


There's a ridiculously romantic part of me that wishes I lived in the Regency period, with royal balls and muslin dresses and chivalrous men in top hats and estates with fancy names. But most of me is really happy to live in the 21st century, with conveniences like indoor plumbing, modern medicine, battery-operated equipment, and iPhones. I don't consider myself a techie professional by any means, but I am amazed at how "smart devices" have made my life so much easier. 

In my house, I have an automatic door that opens and closes when I touch a button on my phone's Alexa app. My bedroom and living room lights are voice activated by Alexa. And I can call my friends' phones through Alexa, too. In fact, as far as AI relationships go, Alexa is probably my best friend (although I have a little crush on the 'Echo' that is set up in the guest room, which has a nice male Australian voice - oooh la la!). 



Alexa wakes me up every morning with the weather forecast and an inspirational quote. She keeps my shopping list for me and reminds me of important things like meetings and breathing. She tells me dead-pan jokes and offers to do things I don't need her to do. And she also plays any random song or playlist I request (usually), at whatever volume I want. We've even figured out how to play games with her and get her to change the tint of the lightbulbs. 

But Alexa has her limits, too. I wish I could get her to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer, because that is something I notoriously forget. Or refill the bird feeder when it gets low, or water my one real houseplant, or put the recycling bin out on the curb on the correct weekend. Or for heaven's sake, keep up an eternally flowing supply of peanut butter in my pantry! I really do not think these are unreasonable requests. When I ask her to do these things, she says, "Hmmm, I don't have an answer for that," or "Sorry, I'm not set up to do that." She offers to set a reminder or get me a subscription, and I just ungratefully growl, "No, that isn't helpful, Alexa!" and she gets quiet. And for a surreal brief moment, I'm afraid I've hurt her feelings and have the urge to apologize. But she doesn't have emotions, any more than she has arms and legs that are more functional than mine. 

That's why real people are such an important part of caregiving and friendship. Artificial intelligence is fun and does offer some cool benefits, and it is one part of improving accessibility and independence, but it isn't the solution because it can't replace the human factor. I'm definitely not talking about just using my friends to move my laundry and recycle bin or keeping birds and plants well fed... though I very much appreciate those things! But playing games, telling jokes, singing songs, and getting household tasks done are so much more fun and fulfilling with real live friends who can hug you and laugh with you, who can share what's on their heart and listen to what's on yours. 

Bottom line: we need each other. Be careful not to get so wrapped up in technology that you forget that.

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