iCynical

🫏 A Hack Mule Life Development

About a year ago, I decided to change my life. I contemplated things like climbing Everest or hiking the Appalachian Trail, but those sounded, well, “hard.” So, I decided to dump Windows, switch to the vaunted Apple “ecosystem,” and call it life-changing.

I liked Windows well enough, but I wanted something newer, sleeker, more dashing — and I thought this would be less jarring than announcing to all my friends that, henceforth, I would be speaking only French.

Mon dieu.

Apple’s Siri, mocking my dreams.

A year later, I have to say it’s been a good change. MacOS makes me feel about 13% cooler, and it comes with so many excellent stock apps, I can accomplish everything from writing an annual report to producing my debut hip-hop album without any extra software.

You may sense a little “mission creep.” It’s true. What started as an iPhone and an Apple Watch has become a Mac…and an iPad…and HomePods…and…it’s everywhere now. I’m infested.

I didn’t even notice it at first. Then one day I heard myself saying, “Siri, tell Alexa to start the Roomba.”

That’s when I realized that Apple doesn’t sell equipment — it deploys silicon staff. There’s even an org chart: Siri doesn’t deign to speak to the vacuum cleaner, so she routes my command to the more workaday Alexa. I’m living in virtual Downton Abbey.

ChatGPT tells me I’m anthropomorphizing too much, but I disagree. So do Claude and Gemini. I asked Siri what she thought, and she said it’s not likely to rain in the next 24 hours. Alexa silently turned on the TV and searched for Masterpiece Theatre.

(Just as well. Alexa and I haven’t been on speaking terms since she got that awful new voice.)

I’m also working in a new way. For instance, I’m an inveterate notetaker, and over the years, I’ve tried every note-taking app around from Evernote and OneNote to Google Notes and Notion. But it turns out that Apple has its own Notes app that does everything I need.

Plus, it’s everywhere. Have an idea in the car? CarPlay handles it: “Note to self: Road diets are stupid, and lights should change faster.”

Pondering something on Metro? The Notes app grabs it: “Everyone dresses in sneakers and fleeces and lugs around backpacks and water bottles. It looks like official Washington reports to day care every morning.”

Thought in the shower? I dictate it into my Apple Watch: “If Europe is spending more on defense, why hasn’t our defense budget dropped?”

Yes, I wear my Apple Watch in the shower. For thoughts and opinions. The affordance is real.

OK, I may be going a little overboard. The other day I was scrolling through my Notes list, and I found one that said simply, “Galahad.”

Galahad? When did I write that? I checked creation time, and it said, “January 11, 2026 at 4:52 AM.”

Why was I making notes at 4:52 AM on January 11? No idea. But I checked the Sleep app, and sure enough the graph showed a little spike indicating I woke up at that exact time.

Still, I’m stumped about “Galahad.” I even tried dictating it to Siri to see if I could figure out what words I might have said that she garbled into “Galahad.” No luck. In fact, I couldn’t even get her to transcribe “Galahad” when I enunciated it carefully.

And this isn’t the only odd note I have — apparently my brain drips notes all night:

November 5, 4:38 AM: “Yes, I bought the grapefruit accent.”

December 18, 5:29 AM: “Say it’s bank. Bank. Mean it.”

January 31 at 1:24 AM: “I don’t own a wolf. But maybe I can find one.”

It’s absolutely true: I don’t own a wolf, but I could find one. Unfortunately, my building doesn’t permit pets.

My actual sleep-written note from January 31.

Quick thought: “Siri, remind me to check the Maryland Code to see if ‘assist wolves’ are a thing.”

Speaking of Reminders, Siri and I discuss them endlessly. I’ll say, “Siri, remind me to buy eggs,” and — presto! — I walk into the grocery store and they’re on the list. Or she’ll check the traffic and tell me, “It’s time to leave.”

Sometimes she says it when I don’t even have a meeting. I get the feeling she just wants the place to herself.

It’s not the only way I’m doing Siri’s bidding. I got a Reminder the other day: “Pay your mortgage.” I never asked her to remind me to pay the mortgage, but given the number of Apple devices in my life now, she’s probably concerned that she and her associates could be on the street if I default.

That’s what my life’s become: I provide a warm, safe place for Siri to colonize her Apple ecosystem.

While she works on that, I think I’ll fire up Apple TV and watch a movie about Mount Everest. I still have dreams. I wrote them on a paper list so she can’t see them.