2012 was the Year of the Gizmo, the year I holed up for 99 hours straight, in my room, learning my iPhone. I believed I was on a noble mission. Now I know I’d fallen powerless before the techno gods.
“Take a break,” suggested my wife. “Get some fresh air. You’ve got that video game pallor.”
“Good idea. I’ll just take this new GPS app out for a test run.”
“Eat something first,” she said. “Here, Tarzan, have a banana.”
“How can I be sure it’s a banana?”
“Use your Color Identifier,” she said.
”But there’s lots of yellow fruit. Bananas for sure. Pineapples when they’re unwrapped. Certain apples.”
“Then use your Bar Code Reader,” she said.
“But only the biggest banana in the bunch gets a bar code. What about all the little ones?”
“Then use your Pen Friend and stick labels on all of them,” she said.
“But what if I eat the label? Like if it’s on a pear and I swallow it?”
“Then scan your tummy. That way you’ll know if you’re getting enough fruit,” she said.
“I’ve got it! I can use my Viz Wiz app. I take a picture of the fruit and my iPhone sends it into the Cloud where Viz Wiz writes back and says ‘It’s a banana’ or whatever it is.”
“Or,” she said,” you could just ask me.”
“Hmmm. But the whole point is for me to be more independent—so I don’t have to ask you stuff all the time. That’s what these gizmos are all about.“
“I get it, Honey,” she said, handing me another piece of fruit. “Here, let’s try this. You call me. Use Face Time. You do know how to call me, don’t you, Honey? Just press the little button and tell Siri.”