I came downstairs to hear the sound of music.
“What are you listening to?” I asked Paul.
“That’s you.”
I held up my phone and shook my head. I had been listening to the jazz show “Afterglow,” but it was done.
He shrugged and pointed to the Echo Dot, which sits on a stand next to a small television.
I wandered over to it. Had we said something in passing that led Ziggy (I got tired of Alexa and her Valley Girl voice) to think we wanted to listen to—hmm, some kind of electronic pop?
“Ziggy, stop.”
The music did not stop.
“Ziggy. End the music.”
The music played on.
“Unplug it,” Paul helpfully suggested.
“I will as a last resort,” I said. “The television will have to reset if I do that.” I always get nervous when the TV goes through its gyrations. My own plans for “fixing” any problems I encounter with it involve switching the power cord on and off.
I stood for several minutes, alternately googling possible solutions and yelling at Ziggy. I envisioned myself taking the Echo to the deck and using a sledgehammer on it. Finally I gave in and switched everything off, then on again.
Ah, silence.
The Echo turned several different colors and settled down. The television flickered and then—wait—turned itself on? This was not normal. I turned the TV on, then off. The TV flickered and went off. But why had it been on to begin with?
The flashbulb clicked.
It had been the TV the whole time. I guess I had left it on earlier and it went into screensaver mode. The screen dimmed, the music played.
A smart TV indeed.
As Gilda Radner’s character Emily Litella would say, “Never mind.”
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I welcome email at lizzie621@icloud.com
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