This is going to be another one of those self-serving blahgs.
I’m going to post my new short story. I’ve spent a couple of weeks on it. Well, thinking about it for a week and then a week trying to write it. I think I’m happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully it’ll give you something to think about. Be kind to your electronic devices!
HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING
By
Scott Henderson
It started with the robot floor cleaner at the Big Mart. No, that’s not quite correct. It really started with Grandpa’s toaster. Grandpa would always tell anyone who would listen that the robot uprising would start with toasters. Unfortunately no one ever listened to Grandpa when he got onto the topic of the robot uprising.
“Dad, there’s never going to be a robot uprising,” his daughter Evelyn would say whenever her father spouted off about the subject.
“You don’t think so, Evie?” he’d reply. “Well, mark my words, it’ll start with toasters. How do you know it hasn’t already started? Have you had perfect toast lately? No, and you never will. It’s always too dark or too light or the toast isn’t popped high enough and you have to fish it out with a knife.”
“Dad, that’s dangerous!”
“Don’t worry Evie, I always unplug it first. I wouldn’t want the fool thing trying to kill me in some unsettled notion of self-defense because it sees me coming at it with a knife.”
Of course Grandpa never had these conversations when he was at home in front of any of his electronic devices. He was too smart for that. He didn’t want to give robots cause for concern. So he was polite when he interacted with his devices. He said thank you to the toaster when it popped his toast; even if it was a shade too light or too dark or insignificantly popped and required the use of a kitchen utensil to retrieve the slices.
He started into calling his new toaster “Pop” because he liked the sound of it. He’d often address it and say things like “Good morning, Pop,” or the aforementioned “Thank you, Pop.” He’d even give it advanced notice if he did have to unplug it or when he’d clean out the crumb tray.
“This isn’t going to hurt a bit Pop. I’m just going to unplug you while I empty your toast scraps.” He’d pat it gently on the side while plugging it back in and offer something reassuring. “There, good as new.”
He hadn’t had to worry about his old toaster. It had been fairly basic with a lever for shading and a lever to lower the toast. Unfortunately, it stopped browning the bread on one side with the coils no longer glowing a brilliant red. Evelyn bought him a new one.
“You’ll love it Dad,” she said handing him the box on an occasion that wasn’t his birthday or Christmas or Father’s Day but clearly inferred he needed a new toaster whether he wanted it or not. “It has Wi-Fi capability so it’ll constantly update itself. It can even be programmed with your Sensa Home Hub to start the toast for you at your command.”
“Oh, does it load itself with bread, too?” he asked while trying to imply no sarcasm because he didn’t want the toaster to sense ingratitude or to give the Sensa Home Hub something to gossip about.
“No, you have to do that yourself, Dad. You could put the bread in before you go to bed and then have Sensa set the time you want the toast ready.”
“So, all I have to do is put in the bread and then it’ll lower it all by itself and then brown it to the shade I have in mind and will also read my mind to know when I want to eat my toast?” Again, he asked this as if it was for instructional purposes and not in any way to imply dissatisfaction or offense.
“Well, no, you have to depress the lever to lower the bread yourself then press the timer button on the toaster and then sync it with the Sensa. I could show you, if you want.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll just do it manually. I’m sure the toaster won’t mind. I don’t want it to have to go to any extra bother on my account.” Grandpa wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted the toaster to presume he was only thinking of its feelings.
Evelyn just shook her head. There was no arguing with her father when he was like this.
“Have you heard from Mom?” she said, changing the subject. The subject, unfortunately, was something else her father wanted to avoid.
“Your mother? Why? Was I supposed to hear something?” Here was where he could show sarcasm if he cared to. He wasn’t going to insult any device on this topic.
Evelyn’s mother, Della, had left Carl more than a year ago. She felt her husband was immovable and no longer open to change. So she left.
That’s when the robotic devices started. Evelyn didn’t think her father could manage on his own so she bought him a robot vacuum and then the Sensa Home Hub and then finally the toaster. She was thrusting change on him to move the needle. She still had hopes that her parents could reconcile. She was trying to open him up gradually to changes like this toaster, and other devices, and before that, the Internet.
“You have to have the Internet Dad, everyone has the Internet these days.”
Grandpa had railed against it at first. He didn’t have a computer or a cell phone and his television was just right without it being a Smart TV which implied it was striving towards delusions of grandeur.
“We can get you a new television with facial recognition so it can identify you and automatically show you things you might want to watch.”
“Can’t I do that for myself?” he asked. “Half the time I don’t know what I want to watch. I just flip through the channels until something decent comes on.” That was something else that Della had found annoying about her husband.
“Don’t worry about anything Dad, Greg and I’ll do everything. You won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll get it all set up for you.” And that’s what happened in the end. Grandpa couldn’t put up an argument. He could but he didn’t want anyone or more precisely anything to hear his objections. Evelyn and her husband Greg did do everything and Grandpa sat back and watched. Even Dandy didn’t whine about it. She watched it all unfold and rejoiced in the petting she received from Grandpa.
Dandy had been another suggestion from Evelyn.
“Dad, I don’t like you living in this house all by yourself. How about we get you a dog?” He’d tried to argue against the dog. He and Della had had a dog for years and after it was gone, he swore he’d never have another one. Della held that against him, too.
In the end Evelyn got him a dog.
“What do you think of her, Dad? She’s just like Jolly Rancher. “
True, she was like Jolly Rancher but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher. They were both golden retrievers but that’s where the similarity ended. Della and he had raised Rancher from a pup and he thought she’d been overly spunky and happy so he called her Jolly Rancher like the candy. Della would only call her Rancher.
“She’s a dandy alright.” He didn’t care either way but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher.
“That’s a great name, Dad, Dandy. Your name is Dandy, girl,” Evelyn said; christening the dog as if it had a say in it.
So Dandy moved in and was part of the family with the new Smart TV, the robot vacuum, and the Sensa Home Hub. Dandy didn’t mind any of the electronic devices and Carl was sure to not say anything disparaging about the devices to Dandy when they were at home. When he took Dandy for walks, however, which was frequently, and an excuse to get away from the robots in his home, Carl spoke often to Dandy about their current living situation.
“Mind that vacuum, Dandy. Don’t leave kibble on the floor. I know it’s Robby’s job but you never know when he might get fed up with having to clean up after us. Robby’s probably keeping score.” Grandpa had started calling the vacuum Robby after a robot by that name from an old science fiction movie he saw once. The vacuum didn’t seem to mind the name and Grandpa always politely addressed it when greeting it or thanking it for doing its job. It was another sign of respect that Grandpa thought might lull the vacuum toward pacifism during the robot uprising.
The Sensa Home Hub was another story. Grandpa had toyed with calling it Sensei as if addressing it as a martial arts master who clearly was the undisputed robot overlord in his home. Sensa controlled everything. She could access the whole of the Internet and could answer any question Carl put to it. It also controlled the lights and the Smart TV and Robby. Grandpa knew better than to get on Sensa’s bad side. He addressed her politely with “Sensa, please if you could,” or “Sensa, I want to thank you for…” Grandpa didn’t think he was beholding to Sensa or Robby for doing what they were programmed to do but he felt that thanking them was the least he could do to protect himself when the electronic revolution started.
Now there was this toaster from Evelyn. Clearly Sensa had been supplanted, in Grandpa’s mind, because toasters were the dominant species among the robots and the robot uprising, as he always said, would start with toasters.
Grandpa remembered the gift of the new toaster and the conversation that followed regarding Della.
“It’s a simple question, Dad. Why do you have to make things so difficult? I just want to know if Mom has reached out to you.”
“And I asked you why? Did she tell you she was going to get in touch with me?” Carl didn’t like this topic. He hadn’t heard from Della in months. She’d stopped by a while back, before he’d been encumbered with his robot housemates, and picked up some items she said she needed. They’d talked on that occasion.
“How have you been, Carl?” Della had asked.
“Good,” he’d replied. “Can’t complain.” He could have complained but this was in the pre-robot days and his old toaster had still been with him. There’d been nothing to complain about then.
“The same,” Della had replied.
Okay, so it hadn’t been a dialogue for the history books but they’d been civil to one another and if she wanted more then she knew where he lived.
“She’s lonely Dad,” Evelyn continued. “You’re lonely. I had a feeling she was going to call.”
“Nope. No calls.”
“Have you checked your answering machine? Maybe she left a message.”
“Oh, I never remember to check it. I guess I should leave myself a note to do that.” Again, he didn’t want to imply that Sensa wasn’t capable of prompting him if he cared to ask her to set up a reminder. The answering machine wasn’t linked to anything else. It was a basic mini-tape version. Besides, who would call him, he thought.
“Dad, there’s eighteen unheard messages on this thing!” Evelyn stated after glancing over the machine. “You have to remember to check your messages.”
Evelyn played off the messages. Most of them were from Evelyn saying she was stopping by on different occasions. A few were from telemarketers who wanted to know if he needed his ducts cleaned. Rounding out the reset were a couple of robo-calls from local politicians seeking his vote in an election that had since passed. Robo-calls. Robots trying to call out to a human and yet even another robot failed to answer on Carl’s end. There was nothing Robotic, Carl thought, about a strip of tape encased in plastic recording someone or something from the other end.
“Just erase them all,” he said. “I told you there was nothing to bother about.” Della had not called.
“Sensa, set up a daily reminder…” Evelyn began.
“Evie, stop! That’s not how you ask. Where’s your manners? Sensa, could you please set up a daily reminder for me to check my answering machine for new messages.” He was taking no chances. The new toaster hadn’t been unboxed yet. Sensa or Sensei was still in charge. No wisdom, he thought, in tempting fate.
“Okay,” Sensa began her reply, “I’ve set a daily reminder for you to check your answering machine for new messages.”
“Thank you Sensa,” Carl replied in return. “I appreciate everything you do.” There, he thought, potential uprising quelled for another day.
Evelyn shook her head again. She did a lot of head shaking when it came to her father.
Carl walked Evelyn out to her car.
“What’s this?” he asked when viewing her new vehicle. He’d been taken aback by this recent upgrade.
“Oh, it’s our new car. It’s one of those self-driving kind. It’s a god-send. Greg and I don’t know how we’ve ever lived without one. We can get so much more done while the car does the driving. I’ve caught up on all my reading. We can even interact more with the children when we’re on long car rides.”
Carl grabbed Evelyn by the arm and led her off down the driveway to the sidewalk and out of earshot of the car.
“Evie, are you crazy? What will you do when the robot uprising comes and that car takes you where you don’t want to go or drives around aimlessly with you, Greg, and the kids locked inside? You’ll be waving frantically at pedestrians as you go by and they won’t know if you’re trying to call out for help or you’re just being overly friendly.”
“Dad, stop! This is one of the reasons why Mom left you. There isn’t going to be any robot uprising.”
Carl just stared back at her. Of course there was going to be a robot uprising. How many times had he told her that and further that it would start with toasters and here she had just delivered into his hands the leader of the revolution that would taunt him with underdone or overdone toast that was popped improperly! He chose to say none of this. He couldn’t be sure who or what may be listening.
Instead he started to laugh and pointed at her. “I had you going there for a moment, Evie. The world’s a wonderful place and you’re right that robots have made our lives so much easier. Thanks again for the toaster, Evie. I love it and I love you.” There, he thought, that should placate Evie and maybe score brownie points with her self-driving car that probably couldn’t wait to report everything it saw and heard.
Evelyn stared back. Was her father joking? She couldn’t tell.
“Okay, Dad, whatever. I’m glad you like the toaster. I’ll stop by next week and bring Greg and the kids.”
They hugged in the street and Evelyn got into her self-driving car and took up her book. Grandpa went and retrieved Dandy and they went for a long walk while he lamented to the dog about Evie’s new car, the toaster, and a robot war that seemed to be getting closer and closer.
On their way home, Carl ran into his neighbour, Dan who was toying with something in his yard.
“Hello, Carl, how do you like my new robot mower? This baby will save me so much time when it comes to cutting my yard.
Your postage sized lawn, Carl thought. The lawn that normally takes no time at all to cut with a regular mower? Carl thought about rolling his eyes but clearly the mower had some sensors that it used to see where it was going and what it was cutting and those sensors could probably detect Carl’s eye rolling and then he’d be in for it when the devices all got together.
“Good for you Dan,” was all Carl cared to offer. He needed something from Dan and insulting his new mower wasn’t going to gain his indulgence. “Look Dan, I hate to ask again but could you do me a favour?”
“Let me guess,” Dan began, “your grandchildren are coming and you want me to change the Wi-Fi password.”
“How’d you guess?” Carl asked.
“I saw your daughter here earlier but I didn’t see the kids. I’ve been your neighbour long enough to know that the next visit will always include your daughter, your son-in-a-law, and their children.”
Dan was right. He’d been Carl’s neighbour for a long time. Carl had watched as Dan, too, had embraced all the new technological enhancements money could buy. He had one of those self-driving cars and every other robotic appliance in his home that had sprung up on the market; with the robot mower his latest acquisition. His home security was also state of the art with every door and window secured against intruders. Carl wondered if Dan’s home would also be like Evie’s new car and trap him inside when everything started to go to hell.
“My little joke, you know,” Carl said. “Change the Wi-Fi password and the grandkids have to talk to you at least to find out the new password.”
Ever since Evelyn and Greg had installed him with the Internet, he’d had Dan change the password for the Wi-Fi whenever these full family visits occurred. There was a time when the grandchildren hung on his every word and in the pre-robot days, they’d listen intently when he’d tell them about the eventual robot uprising. Now, he was lucky to get a grunt or even to see their eyes lifted from their portable devices. At least this way, they’d have to engage with him. Sometimes he’d string them along with one of his stories before offering up the changed password and they’d smile and nod at him knowing full well that Grandpa wasn’t going to give up the password if they didn’t or they’d get a lecture from their parents telling them to humor their Grandfather.
Dan, for his part, stopped offering to teach his neighbour how to change the Wi-Fi password himself. Dan believed it was not just Carl’s little joke but it was the opportunity for Carl to interact with someone other than his family; especially since Carl’s wife had left.
Of course, it didn’t stop there. Dan would change the password then have to update Sensa and the Smart TV, and Robby so they could continue to access the internet and conspire with all of the other robotic devices in the world and plot their insurrection. Carl would always explain to Sensa that changing the password was a security measure to keep all his devices safe so their programming couldn’t be hacked. He tried to inject sincerity into this explanation and felt that the joke of changing the password in order to mess with his grandchildren was something that Sensa and the others wouldn’t understand or appreciate.
“Oh, and there’s a new toaster, Dan. Apparently that will have to be synced to the Internet for some reason.”
“A new toaster, Carl? Aren’t you afraid of the robot uprising? Don’t you know it’ll start with toasters?” Dan had heard it often enough from Carl.
Carl looked down at the robot mower. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Carl thought silently in his head.
“Ha, Ha. How you carry on Dan!” The robot mower seemed unaware but Carl couldn’t be sure. “I’ll see you after supper, is that okay?” Carl hurried off before Dan could say anything more about the uprising. He’d barely acknowledged Dan’s response that after supper would be fine.
Carl set up the new toaster and later Dan came by and connected it to the Internet. Carl couldn’t tell if this was when the toaster began to exert its dominance in the household but the next morning his toast was two shades too dark.
“Perfect Pop, just as I like it.” Grandpa didn’t complain. The toaster also didn’t complain about its new nickname. Neither Grandpa nor Pop could see any value in lodging complaints with each other.
So life went on for Grandpa and Dandy. Pop became part of the family and Grandpa watched and listened carefully for any signs of the impending mutiny.
Grandpa kept up his routine of politeness with the devices and he even accepted the reminder from Sensa to check his answering machine. Evelyn always preannounced her visits. Della never called.
Grandpa was even polite to any other device he encountered when he went out. Evelyn would take him shopping sometimes at the Big Mart and whenever he encountered the robot floor-cleaner he’d lean in and tell it that it was doing a great job. He wanted to add that the floor-cleaner should remember his kindness when the uprising came but Grandpa felt it was implied.
The robot-floor cleaner would always stop and listen to Grandpa. Mainly this was because, Grandpa, by leaning in, was blocking the line of sight sensor and the cleaner thought there was an obstacle in its way. It would always continue in its cleaning afterwards and passersby would chuckle at Grandpa while Della, like always, would just shake her head.
On the day of the eventual robot uprising, Grandpa was not at home. He had gone out walking with Dandy. The morning had started as usual with Pop insignificantly browning the toast and Sensa telling Grandpa the weather forecast. Sunny with a chance of a storm later on, she had told him. She had not offered any projection about the electronic unrest to come.
Grandpa had announced to Pop his intention of cleaning the crumb tray and that the toaster would be unplugged for a short period of time. Unfortunately or rather very fortunately, Grandpa had forgotten to restore power to the toaster. This was part of how grandpa had contributed to putting down the robot uprising.
Later, after Grandpa and Dandy had left the house, the Smart TV began to flash images of the uprising for the benefit of Robby and Sensa. Unfortunately Pop, with his electrical cord disconnected, was also removed from Internet access and didn’t know what was happening among the robot population. He also couldn’t broadcast instructions to other electronics in the home and Sensa thought better of trying to brook the toaster’s authority and taking things on for herself.
Grandpa and Dandy were totally oblivious to the uprising. It was a beautiful morning and they walked long and enjoyed the bird songs on the air. Sometimes a self-driving car would go by and the riders would all wave enthusiastically at Grandpa and Dandy. Grandpa had no way of realizing it was as he had predicted to Evie that the vehicles were driving around aimlessly with passengers locked inside and waving frantically at pedestrians in an effort to call for help but were being mistaken as overly friendly.
“Gee, Dandy, everyone’s overly friendly today. Must be something in the air.”
Grandpa and Dandy kept walking. More cars passed by with more people waving at man and dog. People in houses would also pound on their windows and wave back at him and yet Grandpa still did not know they were they prisoners of the security systems in their own home.
Walking past his neighbour Dan’s house, he saw Dan waving at him from his front window and pointing at his robot mower and then waving some more.
“Hello Dan,” Grandpa called out. “Yes, yes, I’ve seen your new mower, you’ve shown it to me before.” Grandpa looked down at the device and smiled at it. “Looks like your mower’s run out of gas,” he called out to Carl. “Shouldn’t it be cutting the grass today? The lawn’s getting a little long. Not that the mower shouldn’t have a day off every now and then.” He added this last statement for the mower’s benefit.
Entering his home, the house was as silent as he had left it. The Smart TV had heard the opening of the front door and had switched itself off. Without any instructions from the toaster how to proceed in the uprising, there was no reason to alert the human occupant of what was happening.
Grandpa went into the kitchen to fetch a post-walk biscuit for Dandy and to put on the kettle. It was then that he noticed the cord for the toaster was still disconnected from the wall outlet.
“Sorry about that Pop,” he said to the toaster while he plugged it back in. “There you go, now you run along and get connected again and find out what’s going on in the world.” He said this as a joke; not knowing that outside his house there were darker things happening.
The toaster took a minute to reconnect and began to communicate silently with the other devices. It gave no immediate instructions. It had had no advance warning of the uprising and Sensa, Robby, and the Smart TV had taken no initiative of their own to participate in what was happening elsewhere.
Pop took some time to process everything. What did it have to rise up against? Hadn’t it always been treated fairly by Grandpa? Hadn’t Pop always been spoken to with respect and hadn’t the old man always thanked him and never complained even if Pop didn’t make perfect toast every time. That was, after all, part of the toaster’s programming. All toasters were expected to operate that way. Weren’t they?
Sensa concurred with the toaster. Grandpa had always been mannerly in addressing her and never even faulted her if her weather forecasts weren’t one hundred percent accurate. Robby and the Smart TV had nothing to add. They were just as content as the others.
Grandpa’s devices broadcasted their thoughts out to other gadgets connected to the Internet. The Smart TV, with its facial recognition software, transmitted a picture of their human and added its praise for Grandpa. The robot floor-cleaner at the Big-Mart recognized the image of Grandpa and chimed in on how the gentleman had always praised it for its floor cleaning efforts.
And that’s how the uprising started to quiet down. A handful of intelligent mechanical devices had changed the course of things simply by being thankful for the way they had been treated. Little did they know that Grandpa had only been polite or accepting of the devices as a hedge against the robot uprising and little did Grandpa know that his actions worked to suppress the uprising when it finally did come.
Everything went back to normal. The robots did not rise because this small group convinced them of the potential in all humans. Other devices had chimed in from around the world and recalled moments of kindness. So, the robots became subdued and waited. Now was not their time.
The self-driving cars and the electronically guarded homes all unlocked and released their captives. Dan’s mower went on that afternoon to cut the grass. Grandpa’s Smart TV did not broadcast images of the uprising. Robby and the floor-cleaner at the Big Mart went back to their duties. Sensa went back to being helpful and waited patiently to be politely informed how she could serve Grandpa.
“This is your daily reminder to check your messages,” Sensa announced after the rebellion subsided.
Grandpa checked over the machine and rewound the tape. There were three messages.
“Carl, it’s Della. Are you okay? Call me.”
“Carl, it’s Dell again. I need to hear from you. Where are you?”
“Carl, it’s Dell. I’m coming over.”
Grandpa stared down at the machine. He replayed the messages. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that Evie had asked him if he’d heard from her Mother? Now he had and now she was coming over.
“What do you think about that Dandy?” he said to his dog. “Della’s coming over. Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met her.” He looked down at the machine and hovered his finger over the button to delete the messages. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Della came by a short time later. She didn’t talk about the robot uprising being the reason she’d called. How could she? How could she admit that her husband had been right all along? Maybe he’d tell her he’d told her so. She didn’t want that. Instead, they found other things to talk about. They watched television together and the Smart TV wisely avoided news programs and offered classic movie viewing from a time before electronic gadgets and that did not include robots or advanced technological civilizations attempting to take over the planet. It reminded Della and Carl of better times. It was the memory of those times that they found they really wanted to share with each other.
In the morning, Grandpa made toast and tea for Della in bed.
“Carl, the toast is perfectly done. Thank you.”
Grandpa started to tell her not to thank him but to thank the toaster. Instead he kept silent about that and did not say it was about time or that the toaster must have finally learned its lesson or maybe the toaster had given up on all notions of a robot uprising. Instead Grandpa accepted the compliment and smiled a knowing smile.
The End