OK GOOGLE, WRITE A HUMOUR COLUMN

Digital assistant proves more likable and useful than first impression suggests

My friend bought me a Google Mini Assistant the other day. It’s about the size of a dinosaur egg, but like a velociraptor not a brontosaurus (yes, I am the mother of a toddler, how did you know?).

The Google Assistant, like Alexa and Siri, puts a voice to your computer and a personality. Sort of a likable know-it-all.

When I received my Google Mini instead of saying thank you like a normal person, I asked, “But like, what does it do?” I’d seen the commercials with the lady dancing around in her kitchen to Kokomo and wearing a beach shirt. None of that looked like a state that was remotely inviting.

But as my friend set up the thing for me he explained that it could do stuff other than play lame music. He showed off some of its capabilities.

“OK Google, what’s the recipe for Greek chicken?” he shouted, teaching me two things: that it can search for food recipes and that such a thing as Greek chicken exists.

I gave it a try and yelled out, “OK Google, play Copperhead Road.” And Copperhead Road streamed through the kitchen. As I enjoyed the dulcet tones of Steve Earle, I told my friend, “In a year, when you come visit me again, I will have listened to Copperhead Road 200,000 times. But will have learned nothing else.”

This attitude is why I was one of the last of my friends to get an iPhone, the last to get on social media, and still doesn’t understand the point of memes.

By the way, you don’t have to shout at the Google Assistant. It can hear your voice at normal volumes. But I’m insecure that she won’t pay attention to me, so I shout.

I even say “thank you” so that the Assistant will think I’m a grateful person and will like me.

I learned that I can add things to my grocery list using the Google Assistant. This is convenient. I can just shout out items as I’ve got my head in the fridge: “More yogurt, milk, vegetables that my kid will actually eat.”

Normally, I type my grocery list into my phone and then text it to a friend, who then texts back: “What does milk mean? Is this some type of code? Do I have to come rescue you from the trunk of a car?” Because, really, who can be bothered to type into Notes?

After a couple of days of shouting at the tiny globe, I realized that I could treat the Google Assistant like a smart roommate or a boyfriend. Or better than a boyfriend because I could ask it questions and it could answer me instead of staring at me blankly because it wasn’t listening in the first place.

“What’s the population of Japan?”

“126.8 million in 2017.” “How many calories in a glass of wine?”

“125 calories for a five-ounce glass.”

“Why do people like Nickelback?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to help with that.”

Generally, people complain that technology separates us from one another. I never agree with that. I don’t think people were ever that close to begin with. See every war for examples of this. And technological advancements like social media have actually brought us together. Now we get to see all the social activities that our friends are inviting us to that we’re skipping in favour of Netflix.

There are some outliers who will always prefer artificial intelligence to real people. Like a dude in Japan who just married a digital hologram.

His new wife never complains, she’ll never get old and she’ll never leave him unless there’s a power outage.

I tried that with my Google Assistant. In the interest of replicating a boyfriend further, I asked the Google Assistant to change to a male voice.

But she resisted me: “I cannot do that at this time. But I’m always learning.”

That annoyed me, so I called her Alexa for the rest of the day.