My Watch is Watching Me

When I was a young boy I would excitedly await the delivery of the afternoon newspaper.  I would immediately rifle through it to find the comics, and my very favorite strip was Dick Tracy.  Clad in his bright yellow trench coat, Dick was the master sleuth and police detective who always identified the bad guy and always brought him to justice.  Part of me always wondered why someone who wanted to operate in secret, lurking behind the shadows, would want to wear a bright yellow trench coat.  But I figured Dick had his reasons. 

By far, the coolest thing about Dick Tracy was his wristwatch.  It was actually a two way radio through which he could talk to headquarters and fellow policemen on the beat.  I fantasized about having such an incredible gadget.  I would pretend I was Dick Tracy, and I would speak into my bare wrist and make believe I was wearing the magic watch. 

A few years ago, when I heard that Apple had come out with a watch that you can take phone calls on, I splurged and ordered one for myself and one for Sharon.  As soon as they arrived, I ripped open the box, set it up and slapped it on my wrist, immediately asking Sharon to call me.  I think I squealed with glee when my watch ring tone sounded off and I pushed the little green button. 

“Hello?”  she said. 

“HELLO!”  I screamed ecstatically into the watch.  “Who is this?” 

“This is Sharon.  I’m standing right next to you.” 

“Hello Sharon!  How are you?” 

She rolled her eyes and hung up.  No matter.  After seventy years, I had made it.  I was Dick Tracy.  I could call people on my watch.  Now if only I could find a bright yellow trench coat….. 

Actually, I found it quite amazing what my Apple watch could do.  I could watch TV on it, take a picture with it, monitor my heartbeat, send a text, order a sub sandwich, use a compass, check my email, and much more.  It’s basically a smartphone on your arm.  Dick would be jealous of me! 

But now I’m beginning to wonder how much of a blessing it really is.  Last Sunday at 7:45 in the morning, we were in the car pulling out of the garage, whereupon my watch buzzed and informed me “You are six minutes away from First Baptist Church Trussville”.  The next day, as Sharon was heading out, her watch correctly anticipated she was “ten minutes from Trussville Target.”  Our watches not only know where we are, but where we’re going.  In other words, our watches are watching us.  Taking note of where we go and what we do.  Letting us know if we are doing it correctly and on time. 

In fact, mine has gotten a little bossy.  It tells me how much exercise I still need to do that day, when I should stand up, and when I should relax and be “mindful”, whatever the heck that means.  It tells me to go get a package at my front door, that I should be on the lookout for my neighbor’s lost dog, and that it’s my last chance to buy speakers at the electronics store before they are no longer on sale.  It even scolds me when I plug in my earphones to listen to music, telling me the volume is too loud.  Dick Tracy would never put up with this. 

I guess all of this is supposed to make my life easier, but it seems a little creepy.  Is it going to start telling me not to order that banana pudding for dessert because it’s got too much sugar?  Is it going to report me to the police when I gently roll through that stop sign?  (Not that I ever do that)  Is it going to change the channel on my TV when I decide to watch trash? (I might do that)  Will it inform me that I need to change my little grandson’s diaper because he’s had another accident?  (I’ll let Sharon do that) 

Maybe I’m just overreacting.  You have to use the technology, not let it use you.  That’s what one of my tech-savvy friends told me.  I spoke to him through my watch you know.  So from now on I’m going to be more careful with the settings, and cut back on what the time piece has access to. 

That is, if my watch will let me.