(If you have never read “Breakfast Smoothies” you might want to read the short introductory page. Explanations about the most blatant lies usually follow the essay.)
Did you ever notice how things beep at you these days? It didn’t use do be like that. We used to live in a beep free world. It was quiet. It was peaceful.
It’s Alicia’s blender telling her the smoothies are ready. This morning we have the Electric Blue Beeping Smoothies, I said.
“Beeping is our new normal,” said Don.
Everything beeps at you. It’s a common occurrence. Everyone expects it. Remember the last time you were in a crowded place, like an airport boarding area. Something starts a little beep and everybody begins looking around to make sure it’s not them. They begin looking at their watch, their phone, rummaging through their purses and backpacks and bags.
Bob interjected, “Speaking of airports, that little cart that they drive invalids to their gates in. Why does it beep? It’s like, “I belong here, get out of my way.” Couldn’t they just instruct the drivers to be a little more courteous and careful of the pedestrians who are supposed to be walking there? What if we all had a little beeper, “Oh yeah, I’m walking here. Beep beep.”
My alarm clock doesn’t sound like an alarm clock any more. And it doesn’t play music, either. It beeps. Get up. Then my coffee pot beeps. Get up! Coffee’s ready!
My kitchen is full of beeps. The dishwasher wants me, the microwave, the oven. They all want my attention. I’m ready, they say. I’m waiting. You’re supposed to do something.
Don said, “that reminds me, the blender beeped. I’m going to get our smoothies.”
The washer does not beep at me but the dryer does. If I ironed any more, I’m sure the iron would beep at me too.
About once every six months (or whenever the power goes out) my smoke alarm beeps. Get up! Something’s wrong! You’re power is out. Thank you, I could have just as well slept though it.
“Kids are effected by it, from an early age. They expect it,” added Don, returning with our smoothies.
Yes. The sound effects for children’s toys used to come out of their mouths. Now every toy has a battery embedded in it and emits a beep. Gone are the wooden blocks and stone rocks of past generations. Those silent playthings are gone; replaced by beeps.
“Kids used to have imagination. Now they have beeps,” added Bob.
My basement contains a plethora of beeping devices. My humidifier beeps at me if it is low on water. My dehumidifier beeps at me if it has too much water. My sump pump beeps at me if the cellar is flooding. Isn’t it supposed to handle that by itself? The water purification system beeps when the filter needs changing. The central vac beeps when it’s nearly full. The cat’s potty box beeps at me when it detects too much ammonia.
I used to have a window air conditioner – it beeped at me. Now I’m more sophisticated and my environmental control system beeps at me. My security alarm beeps at me when I walk around or when I open my window.
The other day the radio was on and started beeping. It was either a test of the emergency broadcast system or Lady Gaga.
Is it my laptop, my phone, my entertainment system, my garbage compactor, or my lighting system?
My car beeps at me when I lock the door. Or is the door ajar? Is my seat belt not on? Did I put some heavy box in the passenger seat without a seat belt? Are my lights on or off inappropriately? Or am I backing up?
“Maybe we need to get out in nature more,” said Bob.
I left all my electronic gear at home and went for a walk on the beach. Just me as far as I could see in both directions; and the sea gulls and the waves. I heard this faint beeping. Below the high tide line I saw a watch sticking out of the sand. I heard it’s plaintive final cries for attention: “I’m lost. Save me.”
I kicked sand on it.