More Robots Now!

I’ve got a bone to pick with science.

Robots.

Or better yet, the lack of robots. Specifically in my house. The kind that clean up without me telling them to, talk to me when I’m bored and maybe even warn me when I’m about to be in danger.

Right now, all we have are a few computers, a TV, some iPods, a refrigerator, a microwave, a Mr. Coffee machine, a vacuum and some ceiling fans. None of which are intelligent, make any effort to look even slightly human, clean up when they know the house is dirty, or co-pilot the car.

In fact, the closest I’ve come to owning a robot was buying one of those cat litter boxes that senses when the cat does their business, then scoops the business out of the box and into a receptacle. Granted, that would be a sweet robot to have in our home, but at the same time, it was expensive. And it wouldn’t talk to me. And it would never let me hide secret plans to destroy space stations inside of it. (Unless I hid those plans in my cat’s business.)

But I’m getting off the subject. Besides, I have no plans to destroy any space stations. (Not yet at least.) But it’s almost 2010. And all signs in 1985 pointed to a world inhabited and made easier by the existence of robots in 2010. Sadly, the only robots I’ve come into contact with are of the vacuum persuasion. I will go out on a limb and call that progress, but I will also say that I expected some type of affordable butler-type robot at this point. And then I will make the obvious joke: Robot vacuums suck as friends.

Back when I was 11 years old, I used to think, “Just get to 30, then you can give up on all the nonsense in life, like cleaning the house, doing laundry, driving the car, or understanding the binary language of moisture vaporators. Just let the robots take care of it.” But here I am, five years past that cut-off mark, still cleaning, still laundering, still driving and still struggling to understand the binary language of moisture vaporators.

So my question is, what happened science? Were you scared? Are awesome robots too expensive? Or is there an aversion to combining letters, numbers and dashes into a quirky name? Cause if so, I mean, I can just call my new robot ‘Bill.’

Bill would get treated real well. We have an extra room he could power down in. And there is a wealth of outlets he recharge on. And there are no jawas in my neighborhood to be found at all. Bill would like it here, stiffly walking around in his silver exterior, cleaning the toilet when it warranted, and telling me tales of far-off space battles when I couldn’t fall asleep.

It’s like I was saying: science needs to step up and get everyone their own Bill. And if they ever do, Bill the robot will always has a home with me.