Hot Coffee

I must confess (and it has nothing to do with the season of Lent) there are more things I am unable to do daily.

I loathe admitting the undeniable truth, and I struggle to pretend it isn’t my new reality,

I try to preserve the abilities I have possibly with excessive caution. I exercise more and eat less. I seek out conversations rather than devour new mysteries. And since I am being brutally honest, it is not always easy.

So perhaps you may understand my reaction this morning as my day began with my constant companion, IPad Pro, and a huge mug of dark black coffee. Two slices of very very thin white toast (both embraced with melted butter and accompanied with a small wedge of Swiss cheese) were also on the table when I opened the digital front page of my favorite newspaper,

Suddenly I heard the voice of an unknown male reading aloud the front page of the NYT. The last time I needed someone to read to me, I was 7 or 8 years old.

A recent appointment with my optomologist went rather well. I was advised (at the moment) there was no need to update my contact lens prescription and there were no current problems with my eyesight,

So I pondered why was someone reading aloud to me? Had something occurred during the 6 or 7 hours I was asleep? Momentarily, I was bewildered and then, of course, I knew.

I have been gifted with another technical improvement to assist me in doing less and relinquishing just one more sliver of my treasured abilities.

The coffee was now cold, but my emotions (and possibly blood pressure) quite high, before I located the tiny dot on the screen that permitted a stranger’s voice to read my newspaper aloud.

And the sliver of fear that I have tried to quell about the new AI world tripled in size as my morning was ruined. Obviously, this is another feature that I had not anticipated. And I do admit it was my own failure to delete the minuscule button inviting a stranger to invade my morning,

Was it my fault, or to use another new “improvement” to our vocabulary,) “My bad?”

Need I fear what lurks beyond the convenience of having a reader in society’s future? Possibly an interpretation of the written words?

Suddenly feeling quite weary and realizing I needed energy. I reheated the coffee and tried to enjoy the very cold toast and the wedge of slightly stale cheese.