Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Members of MENSA

{Photo un-related to this post from here. I haven't been this excited since 1995.}


I am beginning to develop a complex over the fact that the machines and devices in my life are much, much smarter than me. Or, maybe it's the people who program these items that are actually more intelligent. I can't decide. All I know is, the things in my life are getting to be quite bossy.

Remember my old car? It was a great car, really. The best part about this car wasn't its reliability, it was the fact that it said "HELLO!" to me every single time I started the engine. It was quite friendly and thoughtful. But I've moved on since then, to bigger, newer and (apparently) smarter vehicles.

My new car is a member of MENSA, I have decided. Why's that? Well, because my car tells me all sorts of things I don't even know are happening. Here's a sampling:

Attention driver: you have not correctly replaced the gas cap. Check gas cap immediately. You are a giant idiot. You must be a blond. So, is that natural blond or did you get that from a bottle? Clearly you're a woman. I hate women drivers. They are the worst.

OK, OK. Maybe it didn't say all of that, but it did tell me (one slow, painful line at a time in the dash mount) that I didn't put the gas cap back on to my car's obviously discriminating standards. You'll never find a boyfriend if you don't lower your standards, car. Everybody knows that.

Then, not long after, it began telling me that one of my tires wasn't inflated properly. Front right tire to be exact. I had to look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being watched. Or bugged.

It tells me other things too. Like the artist, genre and title of the songs I jam out to each day. Also, it reminds me when I'm driving my car in an economical manner by flashing what I can only assume are gang signs at me. What else am I supposed to assume "ECO!" means?

There are plenty of other devices in my life that also have an IQ of MENSA-like proportions. Take my remote control, for example. It told me last night that its batteries were getting low and it might be a good idea to replace them. Then--then!--to ensure I was paying attention to its commands, it forced me to select "OK" before continuing to watch the Cincinnati Reds clinch the NL Central Title. {On a personal side note: BRUUUUUUCE!}

But there are plenty of occasions when I truly appreciate the devices in my life telling me what to do in a less than polite manner. Like, when my phone reminds me of my appointments. Or, when my heart rate monitor reminds me to pick up the pace. This I find to be helpful, in what I can only say is the least creepy manner possible.

The truth of the matter is, when the devices start telling me things, I'm reminded of myself. Because I'm that person who hovers over your shoulder offering "helpful" advice to your problem. You know, because saying you are helpful is a kinder, gentler term than being viewed as completely nosy and incredibly obnoxious.

3 comments:

Steph S. said...

Yes, the homerun was pretty awesome! You got the playoff tickets for your husband just a couple of weeks ago, right?

Your post made me laugh out loud - I've never been in one of the cars that actually talks, but I'm pretty sure I'd be ultra paranoid - or, maybe not. Because if the car can talk... it must have feelings, too. And if it has feelings, then... i'm not alone when I drive it? Ok... losing my mind! haha. Have a great day!

Joyful Housewife said...

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-Melanie =0)
Joyful Housewife

Married Filing Joint said...

Hi! I am your newest follower!

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