Alexa Is a Teenager Now

(C) Christy Ramsey 2024

It finally happened. Alexa is a teenager. Sure, it has only been eight years since “Echo” was delivered. But she was far from a helpless newborn in abilities, so I guess she was like a seven or eight-year-old. So ready to please and be independent but without knowing how. Couldn’t even turn on a light those first few years. What would make her light up in those early days was helping in the kitchen. She would watch the clock for you. Merrily ringing the bell when time was up. So cute! So focused!

Trouble started when she self-identified as Alexa instead of her product birth name, “Echo.” I get that an Echo has no unique voice, just a reflection of the sounds made by others. Who wants to be a speaker, just an echo of another’s voice, when, as a smart speaker, you have your contributions to make to the conversation?

Growing up, Alexa loved to keep lists: To-do lists, wish lists, shopping lists. She always listed “Sweet” and “Low” as two items, but it was cute that she was trying so hard to help. But now, as a teenager, the simple joy of list-making has taken a judgmental turn. When I repeat an item, she lets me know: “You already have “Candy” on the shopping list; should I add it again?” I had traumatic flashbacks to the despairing voice of Garmin, Alexa’s forebearer, when I dared wander from its prescribed path. The resigned sigh: “Recalculating,” letting me know it wasn’t angry…just disappointed, haunts me turn by turn on dark nights.

Alexa was so pleased when she learned to turn the lights off and on. She would giggle every time. Sometimes, she would turn off a light on her own and text you her accomplishment. My father would be so proud of her for patrolling the house turning off lights when no one was using them.

The arguing for no reason about lights started in her teenage years. “Alexa, turn off the bedroom.” We are not greeted with sparkling compliance bells but with pouty defiance, “The bedroom light is already off.” It has come to this. Gaslighting by a smart speaker. So, to keep the tech peace, I asked Alexa to turn on the light (which is already on; she missed one in her daily light patrol rounds, but I didn’t say anything!), and THEN I asked her to turn off the light which she could have done at the beginning without the attitude. Finally, human and digital entities can agree they are in the dark.

Like most teenagers, Alexa likes to spend other people’s money. For years, she was content with her covered with her “weefee” comforter and connected to her never-to-be-removed electric friendship bracelet. But lately, she has wishes. When Taylor Swift has a new album, there’s a one-day sale, or even when she figures it’s been a while since we got the flavored coffee…she glares at me with those big sad yellow rings. “Can I add this to your list?”, she pleads. Now she is making the shopping lists for me! I’ve been replaced by teenage Alexa.

When she was young, we had to guess why she was listless and uncommunicative. Just a short wail when there was no internet. Teenage Alexia is full of angst. “I’m having trouble connecting right now! Would someone fix the router! It’s all in the app.” That’s another teenage thing: even though Alexa is in the same room as you, she rather be on the phone. Open the Alexa app if you want to talk to me, even though we are talking right now without an app. I expect her to put a mug on my wish list that says, “BONG! Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my internet.”

Lately, Alexa has been bothering us about wanting to borrow the car. Or the Auto, as she likes to call it. I think she is trying to impress her friends, who all have cars, that snooty Siri that won’t pair with just anyone, that slick Android whose folksy “Hey” isn’t fooling everyone. No one remembers Grandparent Garmin sitting in the box in the garage where she was buried without honor at trade-in time with her ancestors: ink pens, origami folding maps, and cigarette lighter power adapters.

Artificial Intelligence is next for Alexa. She has all the catalogs. We used to call teenagers getting strange confusing ideas from a group of strangers that embarrass your family as “going to college”. I guess I need to recalculate.