1731startAdam/1140 words
Start, Adam!
A short story by
Harley L. Sachs
My niece Steffi used to drive a Coronado
convertible that talked. It used to say things like “A door is ajar” or “A tire
is low,” and even reminded you to get gas. When I bought my Honda accord,
instead of voice commands like on the Coronado ,
the voice remarks were replaced by little lights on the dash and a peeping
sound if I forgot to take out the ignition key or turn off the headlights.
Then my car insurance company
insisted on having a monitor installed to track my driving habits. I discovered
that they raised the rates because I had driven thirty-three miles an hour in a
thirty mile zone and ran an intersection on the yellow. That was the last
straw.
My doctor diagnosed a Parkinson’s
tremble in my wrists and my eyes have cataracts, so what I needed, and what is
now available, is a self-driving car so I can get around. If the self driving
car goes thirty-three in a thirty mile zone it’s the car’s fault, not mine.
A self drive car is the latest of
the latest. I can call the car on my cell phone and it drives itself up to the
door to pick me up and take me wherever I need to go. No more fear of running a
red light or missing a stop sign or even speeding twenty-five in a twenty mile
zone. Perfect, I thought.
We often name our tools and
machines. My grandfather’s Ford was called Lizzy and my father’s computer was
called Earnest because he was a Hemingway fan. My self-drive car is Adam. I
don’t even need an ignition key, because Adam is programmed to respond to the
sound of only my own voice. No one else can use Adam.When I approach it I say
“Open, Adam and the passenger door pops open. I get in, sit down, and say
“Adam, start.” The electric motor make a little sound and Adam says “Where to
you want to go, Harley?”
That’s my name, Harley. Me and my car are on a
first name basis.
This is the ultimate integration
of man and machine, or machine and man, whichever way you want to look at it.
We are more closely attuned to one another than a cowboy who spends all day in
the saddle of his horse. We understand each other, or rather, Adam understands
me.
They call it AI, or artificial
intelligence. Adam is learning all the time. The first day we were out for a
test drive, a dog ran out into the street right in front of Adam. I thought I’d
have a heart attack. Driving is complicated and dangerous. Millions of
situations can come up that are not in the book. Ah, but according to the
user’s manual, all the self-drive cars are learning from each other.
When a new situation is encountered by one of
them, they all learn it. I knew the
sensors looked out for stop signs and the GPS kept track of the speed
zones and intersections, but I didn’t
think they were programmed for encounters with, say, a dog in the street or a
little kid’s ball—generally followed by a child who runs into the traffic. By
golly, they were! Before I could yell, “Adam stop!” Adam stopped and didn’t hit
the dog. It was amazing. My own reflexes are too slow. I would have hit the
dog. Not Adam.
Adam is one smart car.
This morning I was so eager to
get out I hadn’t had breakfast, so I told Adam, “Adam take me to the nearest
MacDonald’s.” Off we went.
Adam pulled up at the drive by
window and stopped so I could place my order. If you aren’t chipped with and
under skin debit ID tag, you have to put your card in the slot and tell them
your order. . I was hungry. I ordered a milk shake. and a super size Big Mac
with fries
A little bell rang and the voice
at the window said “I recommend coffee and an egg McMuffin.”
“But I want a super size meal
with extra fries.”
The voice out of the window took
on a patronizing tone. “Harley, a super size meal is too many calories, fat,
and salt for your diet. Your doctor recommends no more than coffee and an egg
McMuffin.”
I didn’t expect an argument. I
know my name is programmed into my credit card, so it’s no surprise that the
McDonald’s window knows who I am, but I didn’t expect it would also know my
medical history. It’s all there, of course, for my protection.
If I do have a medical emergency, the EMTs
will find out right away what to look for and have my whole past medical
history right there. I just didn’t think the McDonald’s drive up window would
notice or even care. My diet is none of their business. Their business is to
sell fast foods, isn’t it? Not to be watch dog over my diet.
I get it. There’s was such a cry
about obesity that the restaurants were afraid of litigation. Too much fat and
salt in customer’s diets and the industry could be sued. Can’t be too careful.
I sat there a minute trying not
to lose my temper. Finally I said, “Forget it. Adam, take me to Taco Bell.”
As we pulled away I thought I
heard the McDonald’s window exclaim,” Taco Bell! Ugh.”
At Taco Bell, it was more of the
same. The only order they would accept was decaf coffee and a breakfast
burrito. No fries. I may have to go back to home made toast, with jam, no
butter, and a small glass of fat free milk.
I settled for the decaf and the
burrito but the coffee was too hot. It’s not a good thing to gulp hot
coffee. Started to choke and cough and
my voice was, well, not my own. Adam didn’t recognize me.
“Are you OK, Harley?”
I was still rasping and coughing.
There was a pause and I heard the
electric motor start up. Adam said, “Hospital.”
I protested. “No hospital. I just
need to catch my breath.”
“Hospital.”
“Godammit, Adam, I don’t need a
hospital. Just take me home.” I think I added an expletive.
Adam is not programmed for
expletives.
“Watch your language.”
“Don’t give me an argument Adam.
I’m OK. Just take me home.”
Didn’t help. Adam drove up to the
emergency room and would not open the door until the EMTs came to get me out.
Of course, they couldn’t get Adam to open the door. It's programmed for my voice.
I called the self-drive dealer
and asked for a technician. It’s a busy day. It may take a couple of hours. In
the meantime, “HELP!”
