Siri

(Pronounced “SEAR-eee,” I think; rhymes with “theory.”)
It looked like this was gonna be a celebratory, gee-whilikers blog about the wondrous joys of “Siri,” but I’m not so sure any more.
“Siri” is a voice-recognition personal assistant on my new iPhone5, a female voice programmed to talk naturally.

The iPhone5.

The store that upgraded my phone didn’t tell me about “Siri” at all. It was my hairdresser, a gee-whiz techno-junkie.
He fired up “Siri” on my iPhone.
Well, okay. Next day I’m in the PortaJohn at nearby Boughton Park, and I need to call my pharmacy to see if a prescription can be picked up.
I fire up Siri.
“Call Rite-Aid” (my pharmacy), I command.
It does so. Gee-whiz!
Later, back home: “Call Cleaning-Lady.
It does so. This is really great!
Okay, awesome challenge: “Get my MyCast weather-radar.”
“What is the name of your first child?”
Uh-oh......... Crashed mightily in flames.
I get local weather from some site that ain’t MyCast, or even weather-radar. All it is is projected high and low temperatures, and probability of precipitation.
Okay, “Get MyCast.”
“What is the name of your first child?”
Forget Siri; use the web-browser.
Well, maybe it will do telephone commands.
I’m at my GriefShare, and “Annie” is there with her cellphone.
“Here; watch this,” I say to Annie.
“Call Annie,” I command. Annie is in my contacts.
Didn’t work. It comes up with some undecipherable, and suggests I make a new contact.
I went to the restroom, and while walking back: “call Annie.”
It worked this time. Her cellphone vibrated.
I return to Annie, and “call Annie” again.
Didn’t work. Another undecipherable.
The next day, back home: “e-mail,” I say.
“Who do you want to send to?”
How about “get my e-mail.”
“Wow. You have over 25 e-mails.”
Which is what it always says, although I never actually see 25 e-mails.
I get the five or six in my inbox, plus my empty “trash” and “sent” folders.
I empty those folders most every day, and I frequently trash e-mails from my inbox — I try to keep it manageable.
Yet every time I engage Siri to get my e-mail “I found over 25 e-mails.”
Where?
Was she programmed to be a staggering drunk?
Some wonder of technology Siri is.
“Call Cleaning-Lady” and see if I get a valid hit.
If not, and often I don’t, I make Siri cool it, and fall back to an old-fashioned contact search.
A personal-assistant with a mind of her own, her own agenda. And it often conflicts with me.
Was Siri programmed by Rush Limbaugh?

• “Boughton Park” (“BOW-tin;” as in “wow”) is where I walk my dog.
• I attend a GriefShare because my wife died almost eight months ago. Annie’s husband died a year ago.