What this mechanized contraption has inadvertently taught me about everything culture has ever really wanted from proverbial Gadgets Of The Future, and what these gadgets truly represent to us.
We recently welcomed a new member to our household. Along with my girlfriend Sue and four cats, I am now housemates with a robotic vacuum. The little guy sports a subtly futuristic, grey body and three simple buttons, each lit with old-school, computer-style green LEDs labeled "small," "medium," and "large." There is no on/off switch- as I inferred from the instructions, once you start the thing working, it'll decide when it wants to stop. While it apparently cannot figure out the size of the room, it knows everything else any other sentient being needs to know to clean said room.
Sue received this robotic vacuum as a birthday gift from her parents. There is something you need to understand about her parents. They are not only in the group of people who buy as-seen-on-TV gadgets, they also hold the distinction of being in that rare category of people- a category I didn't believe existed until I met them- that actually use these gadgets.
They were not only one of hundreds of thousands of households who purchased the Flowbee (SP?) in the early 1990's, they were one of the mysterious few who did in fact cut their hair with it. When they bought a food dehydrator during the infomercial boom, it actually resulted in pounds and pounds of dried food goodies for anyone that visited their house.
Thus, when our mechanized guest arrived, I knew there was no way he was going to just sit in the closet. No, this thing was now an active member of our humble suburban household. So we put him to work.
- GADGETRY'S CULT OF PERSONALITY -
My initial observation, upon its first day on the job, was that the thing vacuums in a circle, from the center of the room outward. Now, Sue and I will argue about anything as long at it's trite enough. If either of us vacuumed in a circle, the other would immediately explain, with a convincing air of authority, how ergonomically wrong such a process is. However, neither of us are about to dispute the robotic vacuum. Its only job is vacuuming, and thus it must be the expert. It may even behoove us to learn from it.
(A caveat: I still defend that proper way to vacuum is to section off small areas, move in vertical lines, then horizontal lines, then onto the next section. But I digress. We trust the little guy.)
Perhaps it seems a little goofy to discuss at great length the personality of our robotic vacuum. An interesting literary device to keep you interested in reading a story about the sociological aspects of a vacuum? Maybe. It reality, though, I am convinced everyone thinks in this manner- even if subconsciously. This is because we all grew up with this personified template vision of our gadgets and machines.
From the 1950's through the 1980's, America's fetish with The Future promised everyone imminent flying cars and computer-generated continental breakfasts. Gadgets would be one of us. At times our friends, enemies or slaves- but always one of us. Of course I don't need to tell you (and I, indeed, am as disappointed as you) that most of this prophecy was not to be.
