The latest thing in modern technology is a short piece of kit that talks to you. No, not Jeanette Krankie.
It’s a gizmo that you can get to tell you your shopping lists, news headlines or the weather forecast and to take an umbrella.
They all have fluty female voices. It must be like sharing your home with an eccentric newsreader who doesn’t want to be seen, like that weird advert they used to have with Moira Stuart locked in a cupboard telling people about tax deadlines. Never sure if it was a public information film or a hostage situation.
Call me Luddite, but I tend to write my shopping lists myself, and either the BBC will give me the weather and the news, or that small friendly woman at the bus stop will tell me. She always does. Admittedly, her news headlines are considerably more localised than Aunty Beeb.
I thought the future would be a robot that could carry the shopping, that jetpack we were promised, or at the very least a face cream that really did halt seven signs of ageing.
Instead we have a patronising shy newsreader with an obsession with the weather.