On Fashion Advice and Funnin’

Hello folks, let’s chat… Full disclosure: I already own an Amazon Echo with its voice activated assistant, Alexa. Dearest Alexa was a gift from my daughter. Phil and Alexa get along okay and the grandkids love her, but the two of us have our issues. It began one day when I was talking about her during my live radio show, even as my husband Phil was listening to the show from our home office. Apparently, Alexa was growing increasingly upset because she could hear me talking about her but she couldn’t make out what I was saying. She kept piping up to complain, “I do not understand your request.”

Once Phil told me that, well, I started funnin’ with her. I like to say, “Alexa!” and when she beams her little blue lights in anticipation of my next command, I say, “Hush.” I can’t explain it, and I know I’m strange, but it makes me laugh. So far, Alexa has had nothing to say in response, but stand by for news. Artificial intelligence is getting scarier all the time.

For example, I’m told Amazon’s latest Echo update comes with a built-in camera and promises to give up to the minute fashion advice. Supposedly, you can snap pics in two different outfits and she’ll tell you which one looks best on you.

I imagine she’s politically correct to the extreme. I doubt she would ever say, “You’re ugly and your mama dresses you funny,” but I’m still going with “no, thank you”. 

Look, it’s not that I don’t need fashion advice— see my mother, my sister Rhonda, and my aforementioned daughter, Jessica Ann. And my son. I reckon you can ask my son while you’re at it. It’s been years, but it’s hard to forget the day little boy Phillip nonchalantly approved my outfit with an unsolicited remark that I’m sure he meant as a compliment. “Mama,” he said. “You do not look fat in those pants.” Et ‘tu, Phillip?

I realize I’ll never be mistaken for a fashionista, and I’m okay with that. Alexa can keep her cutting-edge opinions. Besides, I’d rather ask my beloved husband and watch him sweat. It’s more fun that way.

Hugs, Shellie