Siri, What Are You Wearing?

For several years now, my girls have given me a hard time about my dinosaur of a cell phone. It only handles calls and text. “You need an iPhone so we can stay in touch better!” they tell me. Knowing that I like gadgets, I've been dragging my feet, concerned about my own addictive behavior. I've seen too many families sit together at dinner in some restaurant and never speak, all heads bowed to the iPhone god, thumbs tapping. I tell them that my laptop is turned on whenever I'm at home or at work, and typically I spend all my time...at home or work. “But we can be better connected, Dad, wherever you are...and you'll love all the apps!” they assure me. I don't know...and right now I certainly don't miss all those features, all those apps, that I'm unaware of. For ten years late in her life, my mother had a microwave oven she never used. It came with the condo. She didn't know how to use it and never saw the need to learn. “I've always been fine with my little toaster oven.” she said. Now I'm her. But unless I'm going to drop dead tomorrow, which is about 25 years earlier than I’d planned, I just have to get off this ledge and jump into the water. Ruth and Hannah recognized that and they know me well enough to know that I will love the damn phone once I start using it. So they are getting me one. But they tell me that if if I talk dirty to Siri, she will straighten me out. “I don't appreciate that kind of talk.” To learn that was a minor disappointment but most of the rest of the cool things sound pretty exciting. I am worried though that now I'll have my fingerprint and all my personal data and daily interactions beamed into some cloud and eventually accessed by big brother as part of the master plan to openly dominate all of us. I don't know how to avoid it but I'm planning on asking Siri what she thinks. If she tells me that she doesn't appreciate that kind of talk, obviously she's working for them and not to be trusted. Oh well, I don't have any money to steal and, sadly, no deep dark, secrets that could compromise my position in society as a little guy living an uneventful life in a modular home that looks just like the other modulars on either side of mine. Nothing to loose. (Damn. Just writing that was depressing!) Anyway, I told the girls that I was grateful for the push, and excited about the prospects. But in all fairness I had to say that when they do come for a visit and we go out to dinner, don't try to talk to me, I'll be busy.