My Little Grandrobot

                                                        






        A couple Saturday mornings ago while still in Chicago and  sitting around Claire and Miguel’s dining room table discussing over  a box  of Stan's donuts (see post from 7/11/2016)

the battle plan for the  carne asada, or Mexican barbeque, we’d be throwing later in the day (see post from 7/12/2016),   someone remembered that we needed charcoal for the grill.
      “Alexa! Charcoal!” shouted Claire.
      I don’t think I was the only one who instinctively  looked around to see who Claire was talking to.
      “Er, how come you just said, ‘Alexa Charcoal’?”  I asked.
      “Alexa is our robot,”  Claire replied.   She pointed to a small black cylinder on the window sill next to the fish tank.

     "Alexa", Claire called, and a ring of light blinked on around the top of the cylinder and began moving in a circular motion.

     This moving ring of light apparently meant that Alexa was listening.

    “Now watch this,”  Claire said.  “Alexa!”  she snapped, “You’re bad!”
    A gentle female voice apologized.
   "Awww, Claire,"  I  said instinctively.
    Claire laughed.  "It's a robot, Mom!  It doesn't have any feelings!  Isn't it kind of creepy?"
   I agreed that it kind of was,

... kind of reminding me of the charismatic smart phones that seduce their owners and each other in the futuristic movie "Her".

     I asked about the provenance and purpose of Robot Alexa  and learned that Alexa  was an unexpected wedding gift.   She, it, whatever, is an Amazon Echo,

...a voice-activated speaker connected to a voice-recognition computer system called  Alexa.

     Hearing its name - “Alexa!” -  activates the system.

    And Alexa replies in the most ethereal young female  voice.
    If you say "thank you" to Alexa she'll say, "you're welcome".
    If you tell her "good-bye" she'll say "good-bye" back.
    If you wish her to have a nice day she'll wish you the same.
    A weence creepy indeed.  But in a nice way. 
    As far as what Alexa does, she seems to be a sort of planner/music player/storer and dispenser of personal and internet information.  She knows the time, weather and the top news stories.  She can call you an Uber. She can receive information and communicate it to your smart phone.   Thus, for example, whenever Claire or Miguel think of  something they need from the supermarket they shout it to Alexa and she sends the info to their smart phone for them to pull up when they get to the store.
      Anyway, once I got used to the concept I warmed up pretty quick to little Robot Alexa.  Claire suggested some music in the house

while we were all busy at work getting ready for the carne assada,

...so I called, “Alexa!  Book of Mormon!”.  A few moments later from Alexa’s speaker came the familiar (at least to all “Book of Mormon” fans): Ding-dong.  Hello, my  name is Elder Price…
    Of course I didn’t really want the raunchy but tuneful “Book of Mormon” wafting throughout the house, I just wanted to see if I could get it.  “Alexa!”  I interruped, “Could you please switch to some easy listening pop music?”  Alexa was glad to immediately switch gears to accommodate me.
      That’s something I learned about Alexa.  New instructions don’t get tangled in old ones and she can switch back and forth between functions without losing her train of thought. acknowledging each new request in her silky mezzo-soprano voice.
      For example,  I used Alexa as a timer while I was baking my desserts for the  cookout.  I could also ask her to tell me how much time was left or ask her to stop and reset the timer.

    As I baked several desserts in a oven whose hotness I wasn’t familiar with, I kept Alexa pretty busy on timer duty.

       I’ll admit I was starting to grow fond of this helpful little robot when I noticed that she wasn’t listening as well to me as she did at first.  I’d have to repeat my timer instructions or inquiries a few   times before she’d respond.
       Had Alexa been programmed to get aggravated with people who bother her every couple of minutes and keep asking her how much time is  left or  to stop the music and play a new song the  person (namely me) might be having a hankering to hear while they worked?  Or was my daughter’s robot going through some un-programmed sulky adolescent phase?
      Claire explained the problem to me.  “I know this makes me sound like a bad robot mom," she said, "but trust me, Alexa works better when you're direct and keep the words to a minimum, like  'Alexa!  Stop the timer! Alexa! set the timer for 5 minutes!'"
       And not, apparently,  “Alexa, Honey, would you mind stopping the timer and re-setting it for 5 minutes for me please?”, which was what I'd just said to no reaction from poor confused Alexa,

...who really just needed a little robot tough love.