Hilarity Highs

The highest wpm I typed with accuracy in high school was 45. That was on a Royal manual. On really good days with this touchy laptop keyboard I feel like I double that easily. The proud I-still-have-it-in-me moment is fleeting, though. Proofing work after a brainstorm streak knocks me off my pedestal pronto, replacing pride with aggravation.

This morning kitten M&M plopped onto the laptop and things got wonky. Typing an ‘m’ produced a comma and I saw a ‘q’ when I hit ‘a’ so there had somehow been both horizontal and vertical shifts when he landed. Troubleshooting took me beyond the off/on button, but I figured it out eventually. After all, you are reading my column.

Why can’t this thing read my mind and display my thoughts without all the hassle?

Forget I just said that.

These devices already seem eerily close to doing that in reality. Are ‘they’ (my laptop and phone) ganging up on me? Noting where I am, what I do, who I see and listening in? Is that why strangely familiar items magically appear in curious time frames?

Hilarity ensues. So far, though, nothing like the hilarity a chum and I can share over coffee, taking Joyful Beans to a whole new level of fun. I have an image of AI deciding we are too much and invisibly and soundlessly sneaking out shaking a head full of Google in disbelief at our nonsense.

She and I became disruptively tickled during the last coffee chat. (Maybe that’s why we are welcome to sit in the ‘back’ room). We guffawed at our own and each other’s ridiculousness and guffawed some more when the realization struck that there was no way to explain the humor to our servers. One has to know our histories to experience the full comedic impact.

They smiled as they left the room after checking on the rowdy duo. AI probably began tracking data on gates and hairdos in an effort to comprehend our mirth.

“Laugh until your belly hurts and then just a little bit more.”