In a feeble effort to join the 21st century, I recently ditched my landline and replaced it with a cell. And, lo! It came to pass that mine hip-hop coolness doth runneth over in full measure, like, a lot. But not for long, toots. Within minutes, I was again behind the power curve. Consider the following:
Hay, bah. It be. Just wander if wee steel on fodin tonight. Gibby call one you get this and lay minnow, Kay? Be glad too, pick you if one.
What? You don’t understand? Oh, come on, it’s the auto-texted version of a voicemail I left on a friend’s phone: Hey, Bob. It’s me. Just wondering if we’re still on for dinner tonight. Give me a call when you get this and let me know, okay? Be glad to pick you up if you want. Yes, kids, companies sell their software products before they fix the bugs. As a comparison, if burgers were sold at the drive-through as prematurely as software is released, we’d have cows climbing into our backseats. Bessie, sit! Stay!
The voice-to-text feature reminds me of the days when I did transcription. In typing dictation, you quickly realize that speech patterns are often repetitious, grammatically incorrect, and filled with disjointed thoughts. A good transcriptionist will mop up the mess without changing the content. This allows the doctor or lawyer to maintain the image of having not only an advanced degree and a license, but also a brain. I happily did this kind of editing, most of the time…unless the person exuded insufferable jerkiness in my direction. When that happened, amigos, the editing function shorted out and I typed the whole enchilada—every stray syllable, every stutter, every glorious ah, er, and um. Furthermore, because Americans have no monopoly on arrogance, the resulting train wreck of dictation was even more rewarding if the obnoxious soul happened to be a non-native English speaker without a polished grasp of the language. This most keen job satisfaction does be very priceless, is this not so?
Such evil deeds should be punished! Lucky for people like me, Immaturity is not one of the seven deadly sins. At least, I don’t think so…I can never remember them all. But if it was, no doubt we’d find Immaturity parked somewhere between Dopey and Grumpy.