“So Jim, what do you do for a living? I mean, what’s your full-time job?”
Carla was an overbearing, loud, and annoying woman.
God, Jim groaned to himself.
He sat among a group of friends and colleagues who were visiting him and his wife at their winter home near Nashville.
“So then, she called me out, right there in front of everybody. I mean who does that?” Carla let out a laugh that was one part giggle and two parts cackle.
Hhmm.., he mentally harrumphed, there she goes again. She must like the sound of her own voice. She asks me a question and then doesn’t even wait for me to respond.
“I’m sorry Jim. What were we talking about? Oh yeah. So do you do anything?”
Carla emphasized and drew out the word ‘do.’
“So, do you do anything? You know, my work is so stressful right now. I absolutely don’t know how to deal with it…”
“Well,” Jim started, in a somewhat lower than baritone voice, “I…”
He was immediately cut off again by Carla.
“I need to try something else. My doctor says I should do the vegan diet.”
Seriously?! I’m done with this woman, Jim thought. Just not worth the effort.
He walked off without another word and Carla never missed a beat as she continued with her happy frolic in her own verbal vomit.
He’d let her win that exchange. But what other choice did he have? She was his guest and his wife’s friend.
“The problem is the yeast. No, not there, it’s on my skin. It’s like a skin rash. I’m not trying to be..”
She whispered the last few words and sent out another shrill laugh worthy of the wicked witch of the west.
Jim wasn’t anti-social by any means. He wasn’t shy or introverted either, but he expected certain courtesies and a modicum of respect. So he retreated to the comfort of being alone.
Being alone came naturally to him. He rarely needed the attention of others. People were a distraction and he was a man who didn’t like to waste time. To not waste his time.
People inevitably were a diversion at best. Jim was productive, motivated, and driven. He got things done. Unfortunately, that’s why the Army kept calling him, asking him to do this or that.
“Jim we need you on this mission to Morocco.” Or, “Jim would you consider coming to DC for 6 months to straighten out this team?”
Whatever he touched was a success. And they knew it and needed more of it. More of him. Really, more of the success he guaranteed.
But he was tired. Tired of the bullshit, the relatively low pay, and especially tired of the red tape and bureaucracy.
He had given his time, three tours to Afghanistan and two other tours, to locations that didn’t show up in his personnel record.
Ironically, for everything he’d been through, at face value, his record brief looked about as exciting as a private’s would. His contributions were on a need to know basis.
Jim retreated to his office and shut the door.
“Alison, turn on my desk lamp”
A bronze light on Jim’s desk that looked like it came out of a black and white 1940’s film flicked on.
“Hi, Jim. Can I get you anything else? Would you like me to play some relaxing Jazz or Blues?
A female voice, whose sound emanated from a small speaker behind one of the computer monitors, asked softly, matching the tone and feeling of Jim’s own voice.
“No thank you, Alison. I need some time to think.”
“Understood Jim. Enabling privacy mode.”
“Thanks, Ali.”
On his confirmation of “thanks,” Alison, Jim’s personal assistant locked the door he had just entered and engaged a series of microphones and speakers discreetly positioned throughout the office, both inside and out.
In privacy mode, any sound detected by the microphones outside of the office would be noted. If the same sound, or matching compression wave characteristics, was also detected on the inside of the office, a counter wave would then be created by the necessary speakers to cancel the noise.
The same process also worked externally so that noise created within the office stayed in the office.
It was a not-so-elegant solution to a boyhood dream Jim had envisioned as a child and took the better part of 10 years to perfect. The dream became a reality only after technology caught up to his aspirations.
Having an artificially intelligent personal assistant like Alison was the linchpin that brought everything together and made the system work. Her ability to interact with the strategically placed microphones and speakers enabled her to make Jim’s dream come true.
What she was able to accomplish was not unlike beamforming used in electromagnetic communications systems where unwanted or noisy signals are detected and managed by selectively using attenuation and amplification throughout an array of antennas. The rogue signals are effectually eliminated leaving only desired frequencies.
On the other hand, it was not at all like beamforming because an electromagnetic wave is not and never will be a compression wave. But Jim didn’t bother with details like that. He didn’t like to set up walls and boundaries that might otherwise limit his imagination.
“Privacy mode activation confirmed.” Alison intoned.
“Thanks, Alison. Please bring up project SK8.”
