This is Chester. He’s amused by the new Google Home device we have.
It sits on the table next to the dining table, and only today did he discover we talk to it.
You know, you say “Hey Google” and it listens and fairly accurately types out the voice request you’ve made, such as, “Hey Google, play some Creedence Clearwater Revival”.
Of course, Chester doesn’t like their songs, and all but covers his ears when he hears it. It might be the reason why I request it often, but
Sometimes he’ll sit in front of it, waiting. I suspect he thinks it will work on thought transference, and it will play ‘the meowing of a thousand cats’, to get his revenge.
Sorry, great minds don’t think alike in your case.
Then play something I would like.”
I ask google to play the Pastoral Symphony. Not exactly Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, but it has it’s moments, like turning up the volume and waiting for the cannon fire.
Scares him every time.
But that was last week. This week he’s requesting Ravel’s Bolero. I think he’s been watching late-night movies again.
I say, “Hey Google, play Ravel’s Bolero.”
Instead of music, I get the instruction to reinstall Spotify. It seems my subscription has run out.
Ugh, technology at it’s finest!