Thursday, August 7, 2025, 51*, 81% RH, 0632
Walking like an early robot, you know from the 50s, legs stiff I give the three a biscuit take the coffee, head for my desk. Remember the grocery order arriving between 9 and 11. Set down the orange cup, walk down the ramp to position the cart on the driver’s side of the gate. I look for spider strings as I lock the dump base into place. Spider strings thick inside the handle. Unlike a robot, I pant walking up the ramp, air poor this morning.
Rosie, the robot from The Jetson’s cartoon would have made short work of cleaning the stove yesterday hands not hurting from gripping, grasping Mr. Clean sponges or lifting 2 metal grates.
I am not a robot. AI can design them, make them talk, make them more compassionate in speech but they will never be human. They can’t enjoy chocolate hazelnut from an orange cup. They could tell me the names of birds by their speech and there was a lot going on this morning. The recording looks like hieroglyphics; not sure Rosie could do anything with that. At some point I discovered WALL-E, the junk he collected that included his treasure – a plant. Linda, no one cries over a robot.
Siri, in his Australian voice, responds to my request to set the timer, set a reminder, tell me the time, give me directions. Confidence a little shaken after my last doctor appointment when I said, “Siri, take me home.” He responded, “I’m having trouble with that. Please try again later.”
Use the technology. Have a backup plan.
Art: LJ Austin
