New Yorker 2011I find Techland difficult country. The terrain is steeply mountainous, the language alien and the natives impatient. Though when they birth a new gadget or app, the flash of colorful lights and all the party noise are so enticing! But frustration, wasted money and time have taught me to wait. I figure, let the enthusiasts grow that baby up some before I venture over there to meet it.

Lately, the buzz is about Siri, the “intelligent assistant” on the newest iPhone iteration, the 4S. Just as Captain Jean Luc Picard of Star Trek, The Next Generation commands his First Officer (“Number One” Riker) to make it so, so may we command Siri to make it so. Maybe so. Time will tell.

Meanwhile, I have plenty to fill the void: lounging on the couch, peeling grapes, keeping up with my chosen profession (shrinkdom). And my unchosen profession (running a business, a.k.a. the practice). And the second oldest profession (motherhood). As for staying married, a woman’s work is never done.

Speaking of which, darling Hubby is tech-impaired. Texting eludes him, checking e-mail’s off the radar, and does he ever have his phone on him when I need him? I despair, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t see the value. Or he sees it, but the learning curve’s not worth it. 

So we’re visiting with a couple of a certain age, only older, and animatedly chatting away when the husband starts, and raising one hand— Excuse me a moment please— pulls out his iPhone with the other. He lifts it to lip level and tells it: “Remind me to pick up my medicine from Walgreen’s tomorrow.”

The phone replies, in a pleasantly modulated female voice, “So you’d like me to remind you to pick up your medicine tomorrow?” 

“Yes, please,” he tells it. Returning to us, he says, “Excuse me for interrupting. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“Wow!” I ejaculate. “What was that?”

The wife says, “Meet Siri.” 

“Amazing!”

Hubby says, “Come on. That’s not realistic. It should whine, Why me? Or, Ask your wife!"

We all laugh. 

“Or, Not again! Or how about, I’m busy tomorrow. Try next week, maybe Monday or Tuesday.” 

We crack up.

“Does it work as a GPS?” I ask. “Hearing directions would be so much safer than reading them, especially driving alone.”

“Yes, it does that,” the husband says. “It’s great!"

"Yeah," the wife says, "I love it when it tells me, Take this exit, just as I drive by it."

New Yorker 2011So, we’re a month into 2012. How’s it going? Off the junk food yet? On the treadmill? Jumping on and off the scale like it’s burning your feet? I hear those growns— I mean, groans. I’m with you.  It’s SO HARD. As Oscar Wilde quipped: I can resist everything except temptation. 

When everyone in your house gets cozy on the couch to watch the game with peanut M & M’s and pretzels, it’s painful.  But when they entice you— “Come sit down! Have some cheese and crackers!” that’s diabolical.

Because, probably like me, you’re tempted: “Maybe… just one?” Right. One leads to two leads to the whole bag. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. William Blake 

Whether we’re breaking a bad habit, or building a good one, it’s human nature to resist change. Change is anxiety provoking. And if the change is “good for you”? Health food makes me sick. Calvin Trillin 

When I manage, from the darkest depths of Mordor, to retch a “No thanks!” I amaze myself.  Proudly, I wait for an admiring look from Hubby. Maybe I’ll even get a “Good for you!” Instead, I get a snort, a dirty look and a muttered, “Buzz kill.” 

Devastating. How to choose? It’s a lose-lose. Either we support our health, and lose our mate(s). Or, we lose our health, and support our partner(s) in crime. Now you know why people keep drinking and drugging.

It’s a two way street though: Just as our loved ones affect us, so we affect them. When we jump up and down on our shared social web, “Hey! I dieting! I’m exercising! Why don’t you?!” the resulting wave throws them off balance. They don’t like that. 

Let’s get real. We’re surrounded by friendly enemies.