Month: January 2017

Picture the scene: It’s bedtime and I’m sat on the edge of my bed in my silk pyjamas*. I take off my watch and place it on the charger so it’s ready for tomorrow. I turn on my bedside lamp, pick up my phone and turn off all the lights in my living room and hallway. I then have a choice; take a 10-15 minute detour through social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram), or pick up the cable lying on the bedside table, plug my phone in to charge overnight and go to sleep.

Sound familiar? Which do you choose?

Most nights I opt for the ‘quick check’ on social media, and most nights it becomes 20 mins, or 30 mins, until I eventually put the phone down and restlessly try and fall asleep.

Then in the morning I don’t feel fully rested and groggily reverse the process, putting off getting up for just another few minutes, then a few minutes more.

Enough.

This past Monday I changed that. I’ve moved my phone charger to the other side of the bedroom.

So now when I go to bed I plug in my phone, then get into bed, switch off the bedside lamp and pick up my Kindle to read for a while. The difference is noticeable. When my eyes get tired, I put the Kindle down, and pretty soon I’m fast asleep.

No big surprise I know, reading helps calm my mind, switching off the ‘ohhh I must remember to…’ and ‘ohhh DID I remember to..’ and the usual gamut of ‘what ifs…’ that I still struggle to escape.

In the morning I’m forced to get up to silence the alarm, so I’m much less tempted to hit snooze, and less inclined to end and start my day with a myriad of disturbing thoughts (currently ALL Trump), kitten pictures, and all the other interesting things that social media flings our way that have me taking the bait and click click clicking into rabbit-holes.

So far so good, I’m not sure I feel particularly more rested when the alarm goes off but my mornings feel calmer and as a result my days have felt a little less stressed as well. In time, once it’s bedded in, I’ll add some gentle exercise to my routine as well, and zen my way through the day.

* I don’t actually wear silk pyjamas, but it’s that or picturing me naked, trust me, the pyjamas are the better option.

Recently a friend posted something on Facebook, one of those text based images that shows a well known phrase with a witty rejoinder. This one was about lemons.

I have been renting for the past several years, ever since my divorce. It’s a nice flat, spacious, in a good location, off-street parking, secure entrance blah blah blah. When I first took it on the rent was a little more than I’d planned but it was way better than the other tiny boxes I’d seen, the heart rules the head after all.

The flat was in need of some upkeep then and still is now. The fittings are all original from when the flats were built around 17 years ago and, as it’s always been a rental, it’s had plenty of wear and tear – a damp patch and two cracked cupboard doors in the kitchen, the gas hob fails safety tests as it doesn’t have an automatic shut off, the bathroom has a bare bulb and only got a new shower last year because the old one (finally)  gave up the ghost, the carpet needs replaced as it holds numerous permanent stains, and the walls need a fresh coat of paint – but the landlord has never seen fit to tackle any of these issues (and as I don’t own it, neither have I).

I had been pondering a move last year, grand plans of take some time to sort through my belongings, simplify and remove items I don’t need but as with all the best laid plans I never really got around to . So, with the renewal of my lease due at the end of March and another bump to my monthly rent imminent, I’ve decided I’m going to use this as an opportunity to move, to downsize, de-clutter etc etc.

Even a precursory look around my flat suggests it is much needed. I have many things, but few possessions. I have expanded to fill the space I am in. I have bought on whim, rather than considered desire (and yes I have Marie Kondo’s book). A de-cluttering I will go!

Of course this will be a fight between my emotional attachment to some items and the need to ‘get rid’. I also need to balance my desire to have some level of homeliness remain for, as much as I admire the minimalist design ethics that can be found in Japan and Scandinavia, I have come to realise that I need some level of warmth to a room, some level of delight.

As an example I bought a decorative plate a few years ago. It wasn’t something I need but, having walked past it in a local shop window for some time, I found myself drawn to it time and again, so I bought it. I will keep it because I enjoy looking at it, it definitely brings me delight, despite having no function. I’m all for minimising my possessions but I don’t believe that means having little to nothing, instead I’m taking my interpretation to be to only have things that are either functional and needed, or things that I occasionally pause to look at and which make me smile. My ornamental silver owl will stay, the candle bridge that sits in a windowsill will go.

I’m aware I’m only really considering these things in sharp relief, that outside pressures have pushed me to bring my belongings and the way they exist in my living space into focus. It is easy to attest these things to fate, or karma, or some larger spiritual hand that is guiding me through life. From my initial thoughts last year that maybe it was time to move on to receiving the renewal letter, it’s easy to see how this could all be predestined in some way or another.

And perhaps it is in a way, perhaps the events that happen around us, the events that influence us are partly driven by some larger plan. Or perhaps all we really need to do is look at what is given to us and decide how to make what WE want out of whatever is thrown at us, decide to make the best of things we cannot control, decide to sod lemonade and drink tequila instead.

After all, life is like a box of chocolates and you can eat as many or as few as you want.

As they round the corner the pier reaches out in to the early evening gloom before them, colourful lights glow and flash, calling them forward; a magical wonderland of pulsing stars, glistening in the dusk. As they get closer the noise starts to build, the cheery organ music from the older stalls tinkles along over an electronic bass thump as the fairground evolves, new exciting rides sitting alongside tradition, wooden horses merrily going round and round whilst spaceships swoop and spin overhead. Laughter and screams, shrieks and shouts punctuate the thinning air.

They wander past the outer stalls, smiling as they are beckoned in for a quick game, an easy game of skill. Come on Sir, you look like you have a good aim, you can’t lose! Hoops, balls and targets, stalls lined with lavishly cheap looking prizes for the successful.

At the next stall there are yellow ducks bobbing on the slowly circling current, a weary teenager looks at them as they pass, his eyes full of all the hope someone who wishes they were anywhere but here can muster. She glances back then turns, tugging his sleeve. He glances at her and his heart melts all over again as her excitement bounces them forward. The stall teenager looks up as they approach and intones the price and rules of the game for the thousandth time.

They pay and both pick up their weapons, first one to get a duck is the winner! They laugh.

She was so excited, babbling about her own childhood memories, this first test of skill and achievement still vivid in her mind, brought to life for him through her smile, her wide eyes scanning the ducks as they drift past, choosing her victim carefully.

He lunges forward but misses his first few attempts, the ducks bobbing on what is suddenly a faster current than before. He doesn’t care; he can hear her beside him, laughing in her wonderful cadence, cursing as she too misses then, at last, a triumphant exclamation!

Turns out the ducks aren’t all yellow and she’s managed to snare a red one, a top prize awaits and she immediately points at the large teddy bear. Soon it’s in her arms; she holds it close like a child, a tender poignancy in her eyes as they softly close. It’s never far away, even on days like today.

Maybe the fairground was a bad choice, he thinks.

Her eyes open and she holds the teddy bear out in both hands, giving it to him. One prize she can give. The melancholy is etched on both their faces now as their hands touch and he pulls her in close, enveloping her and the teddy bear in a hug.

“It’s ok” he whispers.

“I know” she says, and turns her head to kiss his neck.

They set off again, quietly determined to have fun. The smell of hotdogs drifts over them and soon they are munching away as they wander. Later on they laugh in the hall of mirrors, scream on the ghost train and on the giant swing she closes her eyes as they spin higher and higher, a single tear rolling down her face, chilled in the evening air.

Candy-floss next and with sticky faces they head for home. Leaving the heaving sounds to the night behind them. They walk home in silence, holding the teddy between them, one paw each, swinging it back and forth.

He can remember it all to this day, the excited buzz of the crowds, marvelling at the strongman as he bent an iron bar as thick as his arm, gasping as the latest greatest ride rocketed people around the sky in spinning circles, up and down, higher and higher until their delighted screams became one, and the lights merged with the stars above them.

They didn’t go back to the fairground again. Life moved on or rather it moved on around them. They remained where they ended up, stuck, lost, unwilling to change, scared to let go of their grief.

Sitting on the edge of the bed he realises he is crying, silent tears drop to the floor as he clutches the rediscovered teddy bear in his arms. He had made it through her clothes and belongings, through well-meaning friends and old photos. He didn’t realise the unspoken memory was waiting here all along.

She is gone and he will be soon. Gone from this house at least, the last vestiges of their belongings being boxed up, shipped up, thrown out, moved on. He found the teddy on a high shelf at the back of the cupboard in the bedroom, out of sight for so so many years and as soon as he reached for it the memories were quick to follow.

He knows he has to let go but he’s so tired of all of this. Tired of going through it, tired of putting on a brave face. It’s only stuff, they say, things that don’t have value, and anyway you’ll still have your memories, they say. He doesn’t want to tell them that the memories are fading, he can’t hold on to them long enough when they arrive, and they are nothing but blurred, grainy, over exposed photos that fade further day by day.

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, holds the teddy out at arms length for one last look, then drops it in the box marked Trash. It falls back and looks up at him. He turns away, everything is past now.

Later that day he sits and waits for them to pick him up. They arrive on time in their fancy big car, all emblems and corporate imagery. They’ve sent two of them as if to remind him of his change of status. His place in the world is different now; he is no longer the key-holder and feels small and weak as one of them lifts his suitcase, the other his arm to help him out to the car. They fuss over his seatbelt and throw his suitcase in the back. He doesn’t complain, just stares out the window at the home he’s leaving, the life once lived.

As the car pulls away his eye catches the pile of bin bags and boxes lying on the pavement, ready to be collected. The final parts of his life. A sorry pile. Next to it is a box marked Trash. He can see the ragged ears of the teddy, its face tilted to the sky, glazed eyes raised to the heavens.

My breath fogs the air as I walk across the car park. I dare not look back, I must leave this behind. I take the car key from my pocket, a push of a button, hazard lights blink their location. I get in and start the engine, listening to it purr and tick as I apply buckle to clasp and turn the heating up. Sitting in the car, the world diluted by crystals, the cold distance is to be savoured before the wounds open and the truth starts to flow. Life starts its ebb.

It’s colder than I realised and without noticing I find I’m rubbing my hands together to warm them, enjoying the building friction of skin on skin. Flashback to hands grabbing my arms, pulling me closer, skin on skin. I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them the windscreen has cleared.

I sit for a few seconds longer, my mind still racing through last night. I feel spaced out and emotional. I put the car in gear and start to drive. As I pull out of the car park it’s only my internal auto-pilot that turns me homewards.

The coast road is quiet, sunrise is only just creeping towards the horizon and I lose myself in the curves of the road, a billion tiny sparkles picked out by the morning frost, dazzling tarmac shouldered in rhinestone, headlights billboard the road signs. Mesmerising.

Suddenly a red eyed cat flashes at me as the kerb leaps into the road, I swerve and catch the car before it can skid. My heart races, I grip the steering wheel, knuckles as white as the hotel bed-sheet. I am suddenly focused and very alive.

The sunrise is in full flight now, a blushing pink sky reaches up to caress the last embers of the night. The road is dull by the time I reach my home town, the frost migrating from street to shrub.

As I reach my neighbourhood I turn the car into our street, the slide starts. I try to catch it but it’s too late, that moment has passed. The steering wheel spins in my hands, the brakes lock the wheels and nothing. I am lost to the momentum and seconds later a dull crunk echoes out as a wheel catches a drain then rocks the car against unforgiving concrete.

Dammit.

Out of the car, breath rising as I look down at the front wheel, askew, out of kilter, broken. I give it a kick for good measure.

My home is only a few minutes away so, leaving everything behind I start to walk. The sun dances low in the sky, hiding behind houses. The pavement is patched with line after criss-crossed line of spearing crystals, puddles on hold.

My hand moves to the gate, red wooden lines edged in silver ice. Pushing it open, I walk up the path, up to the front door and she’s there already. Sitting on the bottom step, red eyes lined with tears, face set. She watches me as I approach.

“Everything is broken now”, she says.

The coffee machine has burbled into life, the aroma wafts temptingly from the kitchen. In the bedroom my sleep monitor suggests I need to wake up in the next ten minutes and the daylight bulb in the lamp starts to glow into life. A few minutes later a gentle birdsong lulls me from my slumber, followed by the tinkling of the alarm that officially signals the start of the day. Get up, sleepyhead.

It’s a cold morning but thankfully the heating has been on for a few minutes to be at just the temperature I like so I don’t have the shock of the cold morning air to deal with.

I tell the alarm to stop, get up and walk to the bathroom, the light flickering on as I reach the door. I ask for my daily summary, and brush my teeth whilst listening to the voice that emits from the nearest speaker to confirm that the delivery I’m expecting today left the depot 40 mins ago and is scheduled to be with me between 2 and 3pm. It also tells me that there will be some light showers this morning, before reading me the news headlines and letting me know it’s sorry that the Lakers lost, again.

Back to the bedroom and I get dressed and tell the curtains to open. I drop my dirty clothes in the washing basket (it remains quiet as the basket is only half full), and head to the kitchen to grab a cup of freshly brewed coffee. I pour in some milk, tossing the empty carton in the bin and as I close the fridge door the panel on the front lights up to confirm that ‘Milk’ has been added to my shopping list.

I ask for the radio to play 6Music whilst I make myself some breakfast.

Welcome to the future.

OK, welcome to MY future, YMMV.

I grew up in a world of Star Wars, Buck Rogers, Space: 1999, Star Trek and more. One of the first novels I read was 2001 (and all three sequels). I love Sci-Fi and the closer we get to some of the ideas that have been floating around in my pop culture subconscious since I was a child the more excited I get at the possibilities all this new technology may bring.

The scary realisation is that this new connected and automated world isn’t all that far away. Most, if not all, of these products already exist and I won’t lie, the geek in me is excited to live in such times. By most accounts the next 10 years will see voice activated automation (aka digital assistants) become the ‘norm’. Sound ridiculous? Well, it was only 10 years ago that the iPhone was launched and popularised the idea of a smart phone which brought touch screen to the masses. Can you remember getting your first smart-phone and how ‘magic’ a good touch-screen device was? I don’t think it’s so fanciful to imagine this all happening in my own lifetime (and I’m already middle aged!).

Of course some of these connected devices sound ridiculous. I do not need an ‘intelligent clothes basket’ to tell me that I need to put a wash on, and I don’t really need motorised, controllable curtains.

On the other hand I live alone so whilst they may seem a little extraneous for my needs, a family of four might see the intelligent clothes basket as a wonderful addition, and for those not physically able to close curtains having a device you can command to do such things would be a welcome help.

However many of these products have been around for a while. You can buy sleep monitoring apps/devices that wake you when they think it’s best, rather than at a pre-set time. Sunrise lamps have been around for years (I use something similar to this myself), coffee machines have had timers in them for decades, and motion activated lights definitely aren’t new. Admittedly things like smart fridges and tiny computers that listen to your every word and await your command (ohhh powerful one) are still rare beasts, although Amazon Alexa is already challenging that notion, but the software they are using is several years old and improving rapidly as it matures.

And all of that is before we even crack open the lid on recent advances being made in A.I. which, for the sake of brevity I’ll leave for another time (but as a starter, feel free to dive into the rabbit-hole with this article on Google Translate).

Ever since we started stepping towards the Internet of Things, such products and services have intrigued me, making me wonder how close we are to the future I envisioned as a child. I still kindle the hope that all of these wondrous new technologies will work together in perfect harmony. The robot butler of my dreams is much closer than it has ever been.

Yet, unfortunately, I think my dreams will need to remain as they are for a time yet, I think that reality is still a ways off and the central point of contention that will thwart adoption of such wondrous technological advances will be something more mundane.

Standards (and the lack thereof).

Amazon, Google, Apple, and every other company in this space, all want you to exclusively use their stuff, they are companies, that’s what companies should do. As a result I’ve not seen many steps towards a global (yes my US friends, there are other tech users in the world) standard for home automation. To be frank from the outside looking in, which is where the vast majority of people are, it all looks like a bit of a mess. Even the most mature product, Amazon’s Alexa, requires a myriad of connected services and some IFTTT loops to get some things to work, and if you happen to have the wrong 3rd party device or service then, sorry, you won’t even be able to connect them at all.

And there’s the rub, I can’t trust that any connected device I purchase in the future will work well with the ones I already own.

For example, I currently have a few LIFX light bulbs at home. I bought the first one via Kickstarter (cos, geek) and I use IFTTT to control a couple of them based on arbitrary things like my location or when the sun is setting to turn them on. All of my computing tech is Apple based but can I control them using SIRI? No, because they aren’t part of the ‘HomeKit’ world (yet? who knows). I could control them using Alexa or Google Home but that requires purchasing more tech to control my existing tech, and doing more connecting of services and applications.

I already use multiple services from different companies, so I’m used to this world. I have an Amazon Prime account which I can only watch through my PlayStation as it’s not supported on my AppleTV. I use Google for my personal email and calendar, and Spotify is my music streaming of choice, all of which mean I can’t ask Siri for help because she only cares about Apple Music, and I find myself replicating my Google calendar data in Apple’s calendar just to have the data available to other services within the Apple sphere. It’s madness!

Only Netflix seems to play nice with everyone else, it’s everywhere. But then, it’s a standalone company with everything to gain by being available everywhere. Amazon, Apple, and Google all want me to use THEIR content on THEIR devices. Which means I lose out as a consumer. Yeah, this connected world isn’t sounding so great after all.

I want a smart home, I want smart automation, I want a robot butler. But I also want fewer smart things, not more. Fewer devices, fewer services. I do not want to have two or more content streaming devices just so i can watch the content that I want to watch. It all feels very disconnected and right now it’s the customers that are feeling the brunt. Sure you can have all this cool new stuff but damn, it’s gonna suck the life outta ya trying to get it work.

And so it seems that the future of anything akin to a singular, properly intelligent, home (life?) automation assistant is left to chance, or at the very least, hope. I hope that IFTTT will continue to grow and add new services, I hope that Amazon, Google, and Apple will support more and more 3rd party applications and I hope that new hardware will not be slow to be accessible in all ecosystems. I hope that buying a new device in the future won’t require me to authenticate it, and a new service that supports it, across multiple different services and platforms (security issues not withstanding).

I want fewer things, not more. I want less hassle, not more. I am the epitome of wanting tech to ‘just work’.

I guess the challenge is that one of the big players needs to be first to open their doors to this, the first to put the customer at the heart of all of this and say ‘hey, you know what, connect to us, run our app on any device you want, we don’t want you to have to jump through hoops any more’ and I just don’t see that happening.

Welcome to the future! Come on in and enjoy all this cool stuff that happens because it knows when and where it should happen. Yeah my front door unlocked itself as I walked up the driveway, how cool is that? Sure my mattress knows I didn’t sleep well and will send a message to my boss saying I’ll be in a little late this morning, doesn’t yours? Of course I can issue one command and have the lights dim, the surround sound system turn on and the movie channel opened on my TV (and yeah, of course the popcorn maker fires up at the same time!). This is the future, it’s totally awesome!

Just do me one favour, ignore the mess.

Note that I’m only considering home assistant/automation, it’s whole other world when it comes to cars ; do YOU want to be choosing your next car based on the digital assistant it has and if it will ‘play nice’ with everything else you already have?

Then consider everything outside of your home and car. What if my nearest supermarket chooses to partner with Google, but I’ve gone down the Amazon route? That advert that is offering a discount on my lunch to all Cortana users is lost to me and poor old Siri.

I’m sure smart people will figure a lot of this stuff out but is does feel like we are at a tipping point. It’s going from ‘why would I want’ to ‘how did I live without’ and I’m old enough to remember this happening with microwaves and home computers. And sure, that’s all well and good, that’s what progress is I guess, but for us poor schmucks who just want things to work, well I think it’s about to get even more messy indeed.

Further reading:
– http://readwrite.com/2017/01/19/badly-need-iot-standardization-dl4
– http://readwrite.com/2016/12/16/lack-of-interoperability-is-killing-iot-a-call-to-action-for-iot-stakeholders-dl4/