The Smart Refrigerator |
“Your butt looks huge since you gained 20 pounds.”
“Thanks,” I answer tartly, feeling my cheeks heating
up like someone set a fiery poker under my neck. I step off the bathroom scale feeling lower
than low, knowing that the scale has WiFi and not only retorts, but will tweet
the message to all of my friends.
Have you heard about talking appliances?
My LG washing machine sends descriptive text
messages. “R U trying to send me through
the wringer?” it asks. And then there’s the oven that emails recipes and
even tells me how to cook.
Hey wait.
That’s a good one. In fact, it’s
my dream come true.
Everyone knows I can’t fold anything into a recipe because
I have no idea what folding is, and by the way, what’s a reduction? Reduce what?
For what reason? When I go to a
restaurant, I want more, not less.
smart fridge and part of smart washing machine |
But life has spun an entire one-eighty because now I got all kinds of smart machines. I can stand in the middle of my kitchen brimming with confidence since my oven’s
passed its SATs. It talks! It reads!
Yet no appliance can top the LG ThinQ smart refrigerator.
“I smell awful.
Would you clean my crisper and wipe me down ASAP?” Who can refuse? It also makes shopping lists a thing of the
past. A camera inside pans
around the shelves and sends pictures to my cell phone. And if that’s not enough, another camera
scans every barcode of every product reminding me when the
expiration date is drawing near. I can’t
even keep mustard on my door for its usual five year stay.
But it certainly keeps me true to my diet. “Put the chocolate down! That’s enough for today!”
Damn, can’t even
steal a little square—like Big Brother's arrived, and he’s watching me.
Talking Trivet |
I finally slam the fridge shut, pull the broccoli casserole
from the oven, and set it on a trivet.
But this trivet makes a statement. Ernesto
Arroyo, a PhD candidate at MIT and part of the “counter intelligence" project invented
an oven mitt that understands the differences between hot and cold. Called the Talking Trivet, the mitt senses when the food
and the container are at a proper heat. If a casserole’s been sitting for over a half hour, the
trivet tells me that the food needs reheating. And if something measures 600 degrees, it
screams, “Fire!”
Wow! Great
timing, I think. Still I miss the good
old days.
When I used to be home, I felt a sense of peace and comfort, but lately I’m competing with a crowd. “Like I don’t talk enough?” I ask the ceiling.
When I used to be home, I felt a sense of peace and comfort, but lately I’m competing with a crowd. “Like I don’t talk enough?” I ask the ceiling.
“Shut up!” the oven yells. “You eat like a pig, and the meatloaf’s done.”