[By Merlin Lessler]<\/p>\n
I talked to my refrigerator the other day; I hadn\u2019t closed the door properly. It beeped, and I ran back, shut it, and said, \u201cThank you.\u201d The refrigerator didn\u2019t say anything. Not, \u201cYou\u2019re welcome,\u201d or \u201cNo problem.\u201d Nothing! <\/p>\n
Later, it was the microwave. I hadn\u2019t taken out my warmed-up cup of coffee. After a minute or so, it buzzed, reminding me. Again. And, then again. Finally, I took the cup out and said, \u201cThank you.\u201d <\/p>\n
I\u2019ve talked to my TV and radio for years. Sometimes I yell, but that\u2019s only when a newscaster inserts their political opinion into the report. I yell at football players and golf pros on TV too when they fumble or miss a three-foot putt. But more and more, my appliances are talking to me. Even \u201cAlexa\u201d gets on my case, saying there is a package on the porch.<\/p>\n
Our gas range invades our TV screen, announcing that the oven is up to temperature. Cars have gone even further, quietly making us obsolete by pulling us back into our lane to avoid a sideways crash or slowing us down when on cruise control to prevent a rear-end collision. Nice features, I guess, but little by little they are making us lazy and dependent. Eventually, they will move us to the passenger seat. <\/p>\n
I\u2019m not sure where I\u2019m headed with this diatribe, but I\u2019d like to make a few modifications to the inanimate things that talk to and assist me. Like, the refrigerator should let me know when the Snickers bar shelf is almost empty or that the milk is about to turn sour. But, most of all, my supply of emergency pizza slices in the freezer compartment needs replenishing. <\/p>\n
Snickers and pizza, that\u2019s all I need to survive an anxiety situation. I keep up with it myself at the moment, but I could use a little help. It won\u2019t be long before the fridge gives me an inventory whenever I walk by. I can\u2019t wait; it\u2019s getting harder and harder to yank open today\u2019s heavy refrigerator doors to do it myself. <\/p>\n