I thought our family had reached "peak tech."
But no such luck.
I figured once everybody in the family had a smartphone, a laptop computer and access to a big-screen TV, we'd be done with electronics. I reached this conclusion watching my 17-year-old son use three screens at one time. He can text, watch YouTube and scan the TV simultaneously.
Mark KennedyAnyway, just when I thought we had reached a saturation point on the personal-tech front, along comes Christmas, and suddenly there are strange new toys in the house.
The first is something called a Shark, a little robot the shape of a chocolate cake that vacuums the floor. I'd always hoped to live long enough to own a robot, but this is not what I expected. I was thinking more along the lines of the robot from the 1960s TV series "Lost in Space" that used to announce: "Danger, Will Robinson!"
These Sharks tool around the room in random patterns picking up lint and pet hair. For the first hour, I couldn't stop watching it bump into the furniture. At one point it disappeared under an end table before eventually finding its way back out, like a drunk stumbling out of a blind alley.
"Impressive," I thought.
The packaging says the Shark uses internal algorithms to chart its course. Too me, it looked like it just ricocheted from Point A to Point B like an unattached bumper car. It didn't stop until it ran into a cul-de-sac under the rocking chair in the bedroom and couldn't get out.
Here's the thing: With every new piece of technology comes a new worry.
We also got a new, wool area rug for Christmas, and now I am worried that the beater bar on the Shark will make it look nappy. I don't have space in my brain to worry about this, but I can't help it.
We also got something called an Echo Dot for Christmas. Inside the Echo Dot lives a disembodied personal assistant called Alexa. Alexa is to the Echo Dot what Siri is to the iPhone - that is to say an all-knowing being who can give you a weather report or play a Ted Talk on existentialism.
I thought Alexa was cool until my brain started to fill up with conspiracy theories.
I happened to mention to a friend at work that I seem to be getting online ads that match my conversations.
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"Do you have one of those Alexa machines?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, slapping my forehead.
Alexa doesn't speak unless spoken to, but what if she's always listening? I have no evidence to back this idea up, except every female Russian spy in the movies is named Alexa.
Through the power of being 12 years old, our younger son taught Alexa to talk to the Shark. If we tell her to, Alexa will activate, or dock, the Shark. She will also diagnose a malfunction.
This is all well and good, but I still can't shake the idea that Alexa may be talking things beside Shark. I hope she did not, for example, record my reaction at the moment that the Pittsburgh Steelers were eliminated from playoff contention last Saturday.
It wasn't pretty.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645.