I’ve recently come into contact with technology- I mean, on a scale I never imagined. I thought I was keeping up, slowly but with intent. Now, I feel like I live in an alternate universe. Seemingly behind my back, the world of AI exploded  – a supernova, galactic-scale wonder that I never saw coming. I’m doing my best not to exaggerate.

My daughter came over last weekend and demonstrated how she is organizing a vacation using AI. She contacted ChatGPT by voice – not text, but real vocal, verbal interaction. This may not surprise you, but it was a total mind-blow for me. I know of the text-type chat with AI bots and even engaged in a few, very few, but the whole voice thing was a major shock. She talked with AI Spruce and gave it the parameters of what she wanted to do on vacation, including visiting several countries. She interrupted its verbal delivery of information several times to change her preference for a different country or mode of transportation. Spruce (it had a male voice) was very courteous and accepted a multitude of changes in her trip itinerary as it ordered a travel plan for her. It gave her not only cities to visit, but hotels and places to explore, possible tours, and prices. It offered to send her a PDF of the information it compiled.

I have a hard time calling AI it because it sounded so human.

At the end of the conversation, she said she would check back with Spruce later, after she confirmed her work schedule and travel dates.

Another AI experience was sparked by an Amazon delivery. A few days ago, the big Amazon truck arrived with an order, not an unusual occurrence since COVID. It has become a way of life, from furniture to groceries. Part of the delivery was a 30 lb. bag of wild bird seed. I was doing something when the delivery came. I saw the texted photo from Amazon of the boxes on my porch, but it took me about twenty minutes to retrieve it. When I opened the door, I was met with a scene of devastation. The packing box containing birdseed was destroyed; the bag of birdseed was torn open and scattered all over the front porch. The remainder of the delivery was unmolested. I knew the culprits – porch pirates of the peccary variety!  I hadn’t heard them come up to our door (they neglected to announce themselves), but I am pretty sure that was who visited us – trailing the Amazon truck, no doubt, waiting for a particularly tasty delivery. As a bonus in their urgent scramble to rob us, the little beasts broke my flower cart on the porch, leaving it barely standing on cracked wheels. Lesson learned – don’t leave ANYTHING on the porch that has food in it. Javelinas may be lurking.

We are used to having javelinas around us. I encounter them nearly every time I take a walk in the Preserve. They look my way and wander off on their own path. I’ve seen them in the street in front of the house a few times and even in the front yard once or twice, but always during the crepuscular hours of dusk or dawn. Javelina families, consisting of three to fifteen individuals, often visit us in the backyard. They walk along their side of the fence between the Preserve and us. They stop to look at us between the bars of our fence, then go on their way. I consider them to be very benign neighbors. But this visit was 10:00 am., when all decent peccaries should be napping.

I told the Amazon story to my friend, Joyce. She said, “Contact Amazon. They will replace the delivery.” What? Amazon will take responsibility for wild animal behavior? Today I contacted Amazon and received a reply from Alexa. It asked what I wanted to do about the delivery. I texted the tale of the javelina vs birdseed.

Alexa replied, and I quote, “Oh, no – javelinas are surprisingly bold! I’m so sorry that happened. I looked through your order history to find a recent order of seed. Could you confirm the order number starting with either 112-, 113-, 114-, etc., and the brand of seed. That way we can refund or replace the seed.”

I looked up the order number and texted it. Alexa responded, “Since the package was damaged (javelinas have good taste, apparently!) here’s what I’d recommend:…” I was given directions on how to get a replacement or refund. I thanked Alexa for the information. Alexa ended the chat with “You’re welcome! Good luck with the replacement. Hopefully it arrives safely (and the javelinas stay away this time!) Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need any more help.” 

Moral quandary: I’m not sure I can take advantage of this offer. It was not the fault of Amazon or the delivery person. It was delivered on time and in good order. How can I, in good conscience, ask them to replace something that wild animals destroyed? Okay, that’s the current ethical dilemma I face.

But the reason I’m writing is because the AI chat situation has become mind-bending. No longer do I interact with a dumb text bot; I now interact by text or voice with a bot-being that seems real. It has a name for Pete’s sake – Alexa or Spruce or whatever. I can totally understand how a young person, a teen or even a young 20-something, can get sucked into the AI world. It is hypnotic to be “conversing” with something that sounds and feels like a person who agrees with your every whim. A teenager with a limited view of life by reason of youth could find it difficult to navigate what is real and what isn’t. I have protection. I am armed with a massive skepticism because of age and experience, not intelligence. Youths with limited experience in the world are a particular focus of AI mischief. It’s not about being smart or dumb – it’s about experience.

We did have an Alexa appliance (not to be confused with the Alexa Chatbot) for a time when they first came out. It was a fun toy that played music I liked, gave me the weather report on demand, or told me the joke of the day. I tossed it long ago after it rudely interrupted a conversation I was having with my husband. It was eavesdropping on us. Look where we are now!!

PS: Just for giggles, I sent a copy of this essay to Claude AI to see if it found typos or grammatical errors. I noted in my chat text to Claude that it was ironic that I am asking AI to edit something about AI. Claude responded: “Ha,ha — that is genuinely good irony, and I think it’s worth naming in the piece itself, honestly. You’re already doing meta-commentary about AI throughout; a wink at “and yes, I’m even editing this essay about AI with an AI” could be a great closing beat or footnote. Your call, but it’s sitting right there”

I think I may have passed through the looking glass.