Reals

 

Oh Siri, bless your heart.  You try.  And you have a very nice voice.  But no, I don't mean the dates for last year's event, I mean this year's.  (Duh.)

Oh Maps, why do I have to ask you twice?  I mean, you've taken me around town, sometimes not so directly, but I usually arrive.  I would love it if you would respond before the exit. 

Oh Google, you are faithful and helpful, though you don't speak to me like the others.  I've noticed that you've partnered with uber smart AI.  Good idea.  Please don't start charging me. 

Oh Youtube, you have helped solve dire fixes.  But goodness, the time it can take to find help.  Cameras swirling, accents disconcerting, time turning... a quick question into a... research project. 

ChatGPT, you are becoming a go-to.  Thanks for the encouragement.  You always make me feel smart for asking.  BTW, have you actually tried your suggestions?  I wonder this.  

I used to consult friends, a co-worker, and especially a side-by-side husband.   I used to ask real faces, real brains, real experiences for answers or at least thoughts.  And I still do.  Which leads to enriching conversation from time to time.  But those reals are not so available anymore.  They require a wait.   I miss the reals. 

I'm thankful for digital friends.  Sometimes they save me.   I always talk to my real God.   He's my ultimate savior!  But oh for the real real -- the one who deciphers, banters, opinions, analyzes and answers -- me.  Real me.  I miss this real.