Both elderly parents still live in the rehab center. I am camped out in their apartment, and I will confess to enjoying the quietude – nothing but the sound of urban traffic speeding by and the hum of hundreds of air conditioners. It is not the quiet of my little campground near Yellowstone; however, compared to Mom’s Alexa or her TV at high volume all day, this is silent bliss.
Mom’s friend, Alexa, is not a person or child, not a noisy neighbor. Alexa is the voice that emanates from an Amazon Echo device. Upon hearing her name and a command, she will give a daily joke, a weather report or just about any other information. She even knows, how much wood can a woodchuck chuck. Seriously. My Baby Brother asked her and the answer was quite scientific. Alexa can also turn on radio stations, play specific music, and read Audible books. Mom uses it for her alarm as well.
To ready Alexa for a command, Mom simply says “Alexa” and then issues the order. For example, “Alexa, what time is it” or Alexa, read Hamilton or Alexa, stop. This is perfect for my mom, whose eyesight is failing and whose mobility is diminishing. What is not to like?
The volume for one thing. Mom’s hearing is also a problem so she commands Alexa to speak at a high volume. High volume. Super high volume. Then, the phone rings and mom says Alexa, stop. The volume is so loud, Alexa cannot hear Mom, who then starts yelling at her. As if talking to a petulant child, Mom says, ALEXA STOP. After several commands that evolve to mean and impatient, Alexa finally gets the message and turns herself off. Meanwhile, I am traumatized by Mom’s harsh and impatient tone, which floods me with memories from my own years as a petulant child.
For an SNL parody and a good laugh click here (U-Tube)
When Alexa finally stops, Tango and I, hanging out in the back bedroom with the door closed, sigh and relish a quiet that never lasts. If Alexa does not return, the TV does, at the same high volume. We hear Jeopardy every night from that back bedroom with the door closed. Like it or not.
Alexa is an important part of Mom’s day. So, as I finalized arrangements to transport her from the hospital to rehab, Baby Brother – who now has a gray goatee and bald head – runs out to install Alexa in her rehab room. When mom arrives, Alexa is waiting. Mom’s first Alexa command, What time is it, then, Alexa, tell me a joke. The next day, an audio book. Her room is large and she sits at the far side near the window, so the volume may not be a problem.
Alexa acts as Mom’s lifeline, her gateway to the things she enjoys and activities that make life worth living for her: music, books, and NPR. At some level, Alexa also provides freedom and independence by responding to her commands. With Alexa Mom has freedom, which mitigates her sense of helplessness.
So, modern technology has given Mom a Star Trek environment, which makes the transition easier. She may seem to be alone or bored, but with Alexa, Mom always has a friend!
Oh goodness, how this reminds me of my own dear old Mother. Her hearing was so bad that we always said that we could hear her tv when we turned into the end of her road and by the end of an evening we’d check each other to make sure we weren’t bleeding from the ears. Then she went into a care home where every room had a similarly loud set.
There was a recent case over here in the UK where an Alexa responded to something said on the radio.
Responding to the radio! Too funny. Crazy Alexa
What a great use for Alexa! I’ve opted not to have an electronic assistant ever, but may change my mind, if my circumstances change! But I can appreciate what she does for some people.
When I return to my nomadic life, I will buy one. She has so many features!