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Dying for a Good Night's Sleep
For about 10 years now, my wife and I have been sleeping on the third floor of our old house. I'm not sure if the attic was originally meant to be used as full-time living space. There's a toilet up there, but few electrical outlets and no heat. It …Read more.
What a Chore!
About a year or so ago, my wife and I decided that we were probably doing our kids a disservice by letting them off so easy in life. We made a decision to assign each kid … a chore.
We've actually produced five children, but only three still live at …Read more.
Growing Old Gracelessly
For the past 26 years, my wife and I have had a running argument about age. It is an argument I cannot win because the rules change every time I figure it out.
I am exactly 44 days older than my wife. Not one day more or less. Somehow, though, my …Read more.
Out of Control
For years at our house, we have had teenaged boys and video games. As any parent can tell you, the average boy can play the average video game until the average parent goes out of his or her average mind. Boys never, ever get tired of sitting on the …Read more.
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Robots Ate My Check Out Lady
As a kid, I used to read a lot of scary science fiction stories. Even at that age, I knew they were total fantasy, stuff that could never come true. But now, as an adult, I'm not so sure. Everywhere I look these days, and I swear I'm not making it up, real people are disappearing and being replaced by robots. If you call a company, any company, for information, a computer-generated voice (usually identifying herself as "Judy") will answer the phone, ask you questions and try to direct your call. You can actually talk to Judy. She recognizes your voice and repeats your problem back to you, saying, "Hmm! You're having trouble with your cable service! I'd be glad to be of assistance!" Judy sounds really nice, but she's truly evil. Judy has no intention of putting your call through to whatever person, place or thing you called. Judy's real job is to keep you moving from menu to menu, sometimes in complete circles, until you give up and go read a book or something. And like the Terminator, Judy is relentless. She keeps going and going, until you're a quivering mass of frustrated hysteria. If you get really, really tired of her perky voice and start swearing at her (or is that just me?), Judy will respond by sweetly crooning, "I'm sorry, I didn't get that! Could you repeat yourself?" If you try to end run around Judy by saying something like "Operator," Judy will say, "I'm hearing that you want to speak to an operator, is that correct?" When you say, "Yes, Judy, that's EXACTLY what I want!" Judy will say, "Please wait!" and then put you on hold for 15 minutes. Then, just about the time you're checking your watch, Judy will hang up on you. If you call back, she'll say the exact same things, but with the tiniest hint of computer-generated smugness in her virtual voice. Even my supermarket is rapidly switching over to "Self-Service" lanes. You have to unload your cart yourself, and scan and bag your own items. The old system, which was called "Actual Service," involved having someone do all that for you while you scanned the "National Enquirer" as quickly as possible so you didn't have to pay for it. The supermarket does still have one or two checkout aisles with real live checkout clerks, but that's because old people, who still remember "Actual Service," will raise hell if they have to check out stuff themselves.
The supermarkets keep someone hovering nearby in case you can't figure out the difference between, say, a zucchini and a cucumber (I can't). If that happens, they'll swoop over, run their little credit card through the machine and correct your mistake. But they're not happy about it. Their job is to stand there doing nothing, and you just interrupted them. The fast checkout lanes now have their own little Judy inside. A voice tells you when to scan your frequent shopper card and orders you to place your items inside the plastic bag on the little weighing stand. If you can't get the plastic bag open in time, as happened to me this week, Judy will start harassing you, ringing a bell and ordering you to get the item in the bag. You can plead with Judy all you want, and ask for more time, but she keeps ringing that bell until you finally have had enough, and just kick the machine and call it a name that makes the lady behind you gasp and cover her kid's ears. (OK, that one's probably just me.) The thing that scares me, just a little, is wondering where they put all those real people that used to do real jobs. Do they have a closet in the back of the supermarket where they locked up all the real human checkout clerks? When I call for customer service at my phone company, is the real operator off in the corner, duct tape over her mouth, struggling to free herself while her computer clone enrages all the customers? Come November, I've decided I'm not voting Democrat or Republican. This year, when I go up to the new robot voting machine, I'm just asking for a pencil and just write in the name "Judy" for all open offices. Pretty soon she's going to run everything anyway, and as much as I've sworn at her, I need to get on her good side. To find out more about Peter McKay, please visit www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2008 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.
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