Memoirs of a Geezer
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Crazy App... Lazy App...
At the speed of something, not light, or sound, possibly the "speed of ideas" coursing through a creative mind, and then pausing at a Eureka millisecond-moment, technology tends to confound, confuse and dent a Geezer's brain. The speed of it, the collision of techno marvels onto an aging psyche... It's all too bewildering.
Consider, for example, the smartphone, its profusion of "applications, or "Apps," in the vernacular of today's wunderkinds and their endless inventions that in a blink supplant those of others mere microseconds past!
"Wait a second," I muse. "What was that wondrous thing I saw in this morning's Chronicle? What??!!... Whoa!!?? It's already obsolete??!!... (Returning to the primary subject matter!)... Those of us in the tightening vise of GeezerHood who continue to labor on, denizens, more like captives of the "Gig Economy," we have to re-train our brains of necessity, in ongoing efforts to grab hold of and absorb those new, if fleeting flashes of technology. Otherwise, and only if financial security permits, we may as well retire to the recliner and the hypnotic pulse of the large, flat screen and its relentless pump-streams of pap and pulp.
The elastic brain! Do those of us of a certain age continue to enjoy a mind that can in fact function, absorb and decipher the codes of modern society? Well, yes... maybe, some of us, possibly... maybe... When SweetHeart and I ply our current trade as exemplary food delivery drivers, we are compelled to use and understand "Apps." So what's the problem?...
"But," SweetHeart wisely notes, "we're already on the correct route. The delivery's on this very street, about... lemme check the map... a mile and a half from here. Be Quiet... stop talking, 'Nellie.' "
Or the app has us taking an absurdly circuitous route, with the map sometimes acquiescing foolishly, and we know the right way to drive to our destination. "Just keep going straight," SweetHeart states assuredly. "Then turn right on Clementine Avenue. It's the fourth house from the corner, on the left..."
Sometimes the app insists, "Continue on McFarley for three-quarters of a mile, using all three lanes..."
"I mean," I say in an attempt at comic interpretation, "is it appropriate for us to weave
in and out of all three lanes of traffic, so that no one but us can use them? But that seems an obvious invitation to a traffic citation. Do you see any police cars, SweetHeart? If
not, I'll start deviating wildly..."
in and out of all three lanes of traffic, so that no one but us can use them? But that seems an obvious invitation to a traffic citation. Do you see any police cars, SweetHeart? If
At times the app gets inexplicably lazy! The mechanical direction-shrieking voice of "Noxious Nellie" refuses to speak to us... shuts down completely. It's maddening. We tend to rely upon "her" for proper, or comic, directions to our destinations. I opine that Nellie is on a coffee break or off to the ladies' lounge or has possibly swooned over an impossibly handsome artificial intelligence of the male variety. "Hello! Nellie!... Hello!"
SweetHeart walks to the door of a recipient's home. A foot or so removed from the person who ordered, she hands a sack of food to the customer. She looks down at the app. It says, "You are too far away from the delivery."
"If I were any closer I'd be on the customer's toes, our noses making direct contact! Are you nuts, app?! I couldn't possibly get any closer!"
Here's a good one: SweetHeart leaves a sack of East Indian cuisine on a customer's porch. The instructions clearly state, "Please leave the food at the door." The app chimes in, "Remember to leave the food in a safe place." SweetHeart looks around at a busy and well-populated neighborhood. The food is highly visible on the porch.
"How?" SweetHeart wisely asks. She rings a bell if there is one, and knocks loudly on the door. No one responds. She's done the best she can do. "What else can I do?" she asks of me, her partner, or rhetorically. If payment and a tip appear eventually on the 
app, we know she's done everything correctly, short of house-breaking or throwing the sack onto a roof and then leaving a crude "treasure map" as to its whereabouts!
Picture-Taking as evidence of a proper delivery: Rules demand, on many occasions, that SweetHeart take a picture of the food sack in situ, when instructions ask that the delivery be left at the door. She takes a photograph using her phone and its terribly clever app. Nothing happens. "Please take a picture," the app demands after she's taken the picture. She cannot verify the delivery unless the app acknowledges that she's taken the picture. "Please take a picture," the app repeats demandingly. SweetHeart takes a picture of the sidewalk, a dead worm, a flight of wooden steps leading to the porch. The app responds, allowing SweetHeart to slide the "Complete Delivery" bar to the right!
"In other late-breaking crazy-app news," the imaginary anchor announcer shouts, sounding nearly hysterical and slightly demented!...
App: "Do you wish to contact the customer?"
SweetHeart: "I've just delivered the food personally to the recipient customer. We chatted amiably about weather, porches and the quality of local Thai take-away..."
App: "Be alert! Look both ways before crossing busy intersections!"
SweetHeart: "What... You think I'm 6 years old and barely conscious?!"
App: "Make a U-Turn..."
SweetHeart: "Don't be silly, Nellie. I'm already at the customer's door!"
App: "Doodledly Doot... Doodeldy Doot..." (New pickup / delivery summons from
global headquarters) -- Pickup from Sheldon's Authentic Real Napolese Pizza Pie Parlor... Location at 5th and LaughHam, on your left...
SweetHeart: (Upon arriving at the app-stated and apparent location!) "This isn't right! There's a chain link fence on our left on which we see an acre of litter blown up against it! Beyond the fence is the Freeway. We can't pickup a pizza on the Freeway." (She telephones the pizza parlor, and is correctly informed the location is on South 27th Street just south of Howard Avenue... miles away from the Freeway address!) The pizza proprietors are heard consumed in mirth as she rings off...
One supposes, or perhaps, one confesses, it isn't nice to ridicule a person. But the app is an inanimate "someone," and Nellie is a mechanical entity, not a real person. Therefore, a bit of innocent ridicule is entirely appropriate. One hopes readers can empathize with this non-tribute to Apps and their sometimes... um, maybe quite often... absurdities, ridiculous pronouncements and erroneous instructions. Thank you for your kind attention to this bit of nonsense. Comments, questions, complaints, (minor, verbal) hostilities and rebuttals always welcome!
Humbly Submitted 03-24-2022 -- by Joel K.
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