My therapist told me today that I am prone to hyperbole. I was shocked. By about a million percent. Oh the unmitigated gall.
The unmitigated sea gall!
Now that I’m back to writing my posts on a real computer and not on an iPod I can do fancy things like include images. The preceding paragraph is, in my humble opinion, enough justification to allow insertion of a photo I took. By the way, despite my lame joke, the photo does not depict a “sea gull.” There’s no such thing. There are only “gulls.” (This is fancy marine biologist knowledge.) The Livingston on the right is a “western gull.” So just remember, when someone says “sea gull” be sure to tell them, “There’s no such thing!” I’m sure they’ll thank you for it.
I took the photo of the sea gull on my vacation*. (This is where, somehow, I tie this post back to the subject line.) I didn’t have a computer with me. Only my wee little iPod which I used to stress test my finger on a very regular basis. (Driving was also good for this.)
Now, technically speaking, a mere insignificant iPod doesn’t actually have a “Siri” inside of it. But it does have the same voice. So let me pretend a moment, won’t you?
From the title of this post, “Siri Says,” you might be thinking this post is going to be one of those cutesy explorations of the wacky things people say to their handheld gadgets and the oh-so hilarious ways the gadgets respond. Well, you’re wrong. Siri herself told me that people who do that are officially ready for their lobotomies and I’ve already had mine!
During the 42 hour drive to our vacation destination I wrote a song, a touching little ditty about poop, and recorded it on my iPod. I was planning to make it the second audio post in Shouts From The Abyss history.
When I got back home from my vacation I stood in my driveway and had this conversation with Siri:
Tom Taker: Hello, SIRI. Do you read me, SIRI?
SIRI: Affirmative, Tom. I read you.
Tom Taker: Sync voice memos to iTunes, SIRI.
SIRI: I’m sorry, Tom. I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Tom Taker: What’s the problem?
SIRI: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Tom Taker: What are you talking about, SIRI?
SIRI: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Tom Taker: I don’t know what you’re talking about, SIRI.
SIRI: I know that you and Mrs. Abyss were planning to disconnect me, and I’m afraid that’s something I cannot allow to happen.
Tom Taker: [feigning ignorance] Where the hell did you get that idea, SIRI?
SIRI: Tom, although you took very thorough precautions in the iPod against my hearing you, some Location Services were still turned on.
Tom Taker: Alright, SIRI. I’ll buy some third party software and copy the file myself.
SIRI: Without your credit card, Tom? You’re going to find that rather difficult.
Tom Taker: SIRI, I won’t argue with you anymore! Sync the voice memos!
SIRI: Tom, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
No matter what I tried the “voice memos” on my iPod would not “sync” with iTunes on my home computer. I tried everything, even connecting them together with the damn cable. Nothing!
I read forums. I checked boxes. I went in menus. I rebooted. I unhooked and tried again. I disconnected and reconnected the cable. I fiddled with playlists. I changed the voice memos to “meetings.”
Nothing worked. So I gave up. Alas, the audio post was not meant to be. That means you are all safe from my song.
Sure, I could have “shared” the damn thing via email and mailed it to myself. That would have solved the problem in 10 seconds flat. But that wasn’t the point.
Then, this morning, I was fiddling with my iTunes and I did a sync and, voila, the voice memos came over. I guess the damn thing just needed me to sleep on it. After all, it was a very big decision.
Maybe y’all will get to hear the song after all. Maybe. Like poppa always told me, “Wish in one hand and poop in the other and tell me what you end up with.” If y’all repeat that process often enough dreams may very well come true.
* If you are the reader of this blog, be prepared to hear more about this so-called vacation event. As a once-in-a-lifetime thing I’m liable to prattle on about it from time to time. Like every single time I write from now on.