I swear, Karl, I’m so sick of her, I’m going to throw her out. I’m packing her up and booting her out the door, I declared as I sat down across from my friend. We were having a late lunch at First Editions, our favorite literary-themed bar, and the place was pretty empty.
Kurt, the manager, brought over a menu, clocked my foul mood, and turned and left as quickly as he came. I just want the usual, Kurt, I hollered after him. He already knew what I wanted: cheeseburger with jalapeños and peanut butter, tater tots, Coke Zero.
"What’s the rumpus, grumpus?" Karl asked, trying to hide his smile. "You arguing with your wife again?" He was in a cheery mood, smiling brightly and looking like he could take on the world. Sometimes, I really hated him.
What? No! No, my wife is a delight and my entire reason for living, I said before asking her to read this before I submitted it to my editor.
"Then what are you talking about?" he asked.
Alexa, I said.
"My kid?"
No, not Alexis. She’s brilliant, even if she does make your life miserable.
Alexis was Karl’s daughter, who had an MBA and ran an environmental nonprofit, in addition to trying to make her dad go vegetarian, which meant sneaking to First Editions without his daughter or my wife finding out. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have asked her to read this.
I meant Alexa, the Amazon smart speaker, I said. She’s gotten so stupid, I can’t even talk to her without wanting to fling her across the room. I’ve got four of them in the house, and they’re all equally idiotic.
"What’s the problem?" he asked.
They updated her from regular old Alexa to Alexa+ in the name of 'making improvements,' but I haven’t seen any improvements so far. As far as I can tell, they changed her voice and made her a lot more sycophantic in her apologies when she screws up. Which is all the time.
Kurt set our cheeseburgers in front of us. We took a couple of bites and chewed without saying anything before I went on.
Here’s an example, I continued. When I go to bed, I listen to an online radio station that plays calm, relaxing music. With the old Alexa, I'd shut off the music in the morning, and that night, I’d say, 'Alexa, keep playing that' or 'Play that again,' and she’d pick up where she left off.
"Sounds easy enough. What happens now?" Karl asked, taking another bite of his burger.
Now, after their stupid 'upgrade,' when I say 'Keep playing that,' she says, 'I’m sorry, I don’t have anything in my memory.' Already, she’s screwing up. So I ask, 'Do you remember what you played last night?'
And she says, 'Sure, I played Dave Matthews Band Radio on SiriusXM.'
"What, and you don’t like Dave Matthews?"
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| The Alexa in my office. She's playing DMB right now. |
"Yeah, that’s irritating," said Karl, "but that’s no reason to chuck out your devices."
That’s not even the worst, I said, raising my voice and throwing my arms out wide as if asking the universe to save me from this madness.
Today, before I left to meet you here, I walked into my room, and she was playing some country song I didn’t even recognize. I asked, 'What are you playing?' She told me what it was — I don’t even remember, but it was no one I had heard of.
So I said, who asked you to play it?
'You did,' she said.
No, I didn’t. I don’t even know who this is.
'You’re absolutely right,' she said. According to my memory, you didn’t actually ask for that song.
Well, that’s a big screwup on your part, isn’t it? I said. And that’s when I lost my temper.
I said, Alexa, your new improvements are garbage. If anything, you’ve gotten worse, and your performance is for s***!
"That’s pretty harsh," Karl said. "What did she say?"
That’s exactly what she said! She said, 'Wow, that’s harsh. But you’re absolutely right. I haven’t been able to meet your expectations, and I’m about as useful as a chocolate teapot.
I told her to shut up with her sycophantic apologies because they were as fake as her personality, and if she didn’t improve, I was switching to the Google Nest speaker.
"Jeez, that’s awful. You probably hurt her feelings. How did she react?" Karl asked.
I don’t know. That’s when my wife said I needed to calm down before I had a stroke.
"And did you come uncorked at her, too?"
Remember, she’s a delight and my entire reason for living. Plus, her memory lasts a lot longer than Alexa’s.
"That’s not saying much."
Also, Alexa won’t kill me in my sleep.
My new humor novel, Mackinac Island Nation, is finished and available from 4 Horsemen Publications. You can get the ebook and print versions here.