I am eternally grateful and blessed that I do not get ill often. And, since I retired from the classroom, that has improved even more. Not being subject to all the “cooties” on all those papers I graded means that I often go a full winter without catching a cold.
But, not this time. As I write this, I am currently pushing through a case of “adenovirus.” For those who don’t want to look it up, it is a bad cold with a side dish of gastrointestinal distress, at no extra charge. I’m not complaining, not for one single second; I can’t imagine what people with chronic ailments suffer through.
The net result of this malady is that I have been watching a lot of television the last handful of days. My TV viewing nowadays is through streaming services. I have learned that the advertising on those services does not target people like me. I can’t remember the last time that a package from Amazon was on my porch. I don’t own a pair of those glasses that talk to you. I have never spoken with “Alexa;” I can’t imagine a female who would want to talk with me, anyway. The people in those ads never seem to work, so I wonder how they can afford to order stuff. And, I’m sure that Jeff Bezos has enough money. Though, if his ex-wife didn’t money-whip him in the divorce, she was the epitome of Ron White saying, “You can’t fix stupid!”
In between opening another box of tissues, and popping another cough drop in my mouth (Hall’s, for the win), I was subjected to another “Alexa” ad. I resisted the urge to arm myself, and go after the TV.
That’s when my brain finally kicked in, and told me, “There needs to be a ‘Rude Alexa’!” I jumped out of my recliner, poured a bit of libation, fired up “Electric Blues” on Pandora, and here I am at the keyboard, pounding away in between sneezes.
I have sat beside people imploring Alexa to answer something that he or she felt they needed to know. More than a few times, I stifled the urge to say, “Look it up your own freaking self!” But, it is what it is. Though, I truly believe that I have found my new career, not that I was looking for one.
I will be “The New Alexa.” Instead of asking Alexa to fix your life, you will be able to ask “Mike Drop.” Allow me to give you some examples.
You: “How much was James Franklin’s contract buyout?”
Mike Drop: “Buyout? Someone should seize his bank account!”
You: “Will the Steelers win a playoff game this season?”
Mike Drop: “I told Santa for the last four Christmases that all I wanted was for Mike Tomlin to be fired. He finally resigned. My work is done here.”
You: “What will the weather be like tomorrow?”
Mike Drop: “Walk out the door in the morning. If you start to get wet, go get an umbrella. If you get cold, go put on a coat.”
You: “Will the price of gasoline go down soon?”
Mike Drop: “Hey, everyone with half a brain knew that the Iranians were asking for it. You knew that someday, someone with some guts would go after them. You need to live with it for a bit.”
You: “Make a dinner reservation for me.”
Mike Drop: “If you can’t get on your phone and make your own reservation, you deserve to be hungry.”
In other words, I completely believe that there is a market for a “sarcastic Alexa.” Someone who would tell you like it is. I am here to fulfill that need. Goodness knows that I can do sarcasm; they will probably put on my tombstone, “He was one sarcastic SOB.”
In the meantime, I figure that I can make some money off this. Maybe even enough that I could make a large donation to this town, since I’d like to see Clearfield and Lawrence Township become a more inviting place. We could pave some of the streets that currently look as if we are living in Albania. And, we could have a united police force that has the means to take care of business. That way, all the Amazon packages on your porch would be safe, and all those sketchy patrons at convenience stores at 2:30 AM would be afraid.
How could it get any better?
