Vacuum: Here for It, #341
Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!
"The Roombas are on sale," I mutter to people passing by on the street. "The Roombas, they've dropped in price. Some of them up to 50%," I whisper to the pharmacist at CVS who does not yet have my prescription. "The little robot vacuums are deeply discounted and, like a little robot vacuum trapped in a powder room with a door blown closed by a mysterious breeze, I'm spiraling."
Even though I have a vacuum cleaner that has worked just fine for probably like eight years, I have been thinking about getting a Roomba because I do not wish to be confronted by the detritus of my own life. Why is there stuff on the floor? From whence came it? To what end? I need a very large Discman-shaped thing to take care of this for me.

So, I googled "Roomba good?" My most millennial-coded trait is still believing that if I google something, I will get a reasonable and truthful response. All evidence to the contrary, I still sort of believe that when I write in a request to Google, it gets sent to Katherine Hepburn's research librarian character in Desk Set, whereas were to I ask ChatGPT a question, it would immediately burn an acre of rainforest and somehow cancel Juneteenth.
When I asked Katherine Hepburn about Roomba's, she sent me the most reliable source--a Reddit thread called "Roomba's good??"--but also produced a number of recent news articles about the health of the Roomba company, Big Discman Inc.
Now, I don't have the spiritual fortitude to be out here reading business news unless said business news is like "This company shut down because it's CEO and CFO both called each other cokehead con artists in the New York Times." That is business news that I'm interested in. (Also, in a twist of fate that I should have seen coming, like a cough that produces a speck of blood in a handkerchief in a movie set in The Past, that wild-ass business news is exactly what happened at the talent agency that used to represent me for film, TV, and theater. They literally just disappeared one Friday in a flurry of legal filings and cocaine dust and I was like, "Oops, I guess I should watch CNBC more.")

Anyway, I clicked on some of these stories about Roomba and I discovered that the company is not doing well at all, which is crazy because, like, we are awash in detritus as a society! The CEO literally got on CNBC, coughed into a handkerchief, and showed it to the camera, which is mad dramatic but effective. So, now they're discounting all of the Roombas to get some cash in, which, as a person who is deeply compelled by a deal, I love. But as a person who is obsessively paranoid about technological obsolescence, I am afraid of.
Say, I buy this large dust Discman and then Roomba shuffles off this mortal coil, then whatever smart technology it uses to understand all of my rooms will stop working and I'll be stuck with deeply discounted useless thing. Why do devices do this? I just need this thing to have suction and wander aimlessly from room to room like a ghost. But it'll be like, "Unfortunately, I can't connect to the mainframe so alas I must perish." For what reason? The little motor is still in there! The suction function is still there! You don't need to be smart, little discman!

This is another of my millennial-coded traits: I don't really wish for my appliances to be Smart. I just want to wash my clothes in a machine that lasts for ten years and meanwhile it's busy reporting all of my thoughts, feelings, and googles directly to J.D. Vance.
Why would you do that, washing machine?
Meanwhile, J.D. Vance is standing at his kitchen island, reading his daily briefing from all of the nation's smart devices and calling into the next room, "Usha! Why does R. Eric Thomas keep googling how many tablespoons of coffee grounds go into a french press? Every week, Usha! It's a 15:1 ratio! Why can't he keep this knowledge in his head, Usha?!"
And Usha Vance just discreetly ticks the volume up on the episode of Elsbeth she's watching.

Smart devices aren't Smart in a way that's useful and it's really upsetting to me and my detritus. We need to give Smart devices Montessori education so they can capitalize on their gifts. I want my refrigerator to read all of the sell-by dates in the fridge and put a big message on the front that's like "Boy, if you don't cook these chicken breasts today there's going to be carnage. And you got like 45 minutes, tops, on this bag of spinach. So are you about that life or not?" This is a device that would help me immensely.
I do not wish to have a Ring doorbell at any point, frankly, but if I did, I'd want it to tell me gossip about the neighborhood. "I think the Fredericksons are getting a divorce." Okay, thank you Ring doorbell. I can use this.
I want my Roomba to tell me that the room layout of my home is contributing to my unhappiness and suggest alternate placements for my couches and accent rugs. I would pay full price for that. (No, I would not. I do not wish to pay full price for anything. I wish to live in a house full of dumb devices deeply discounted. Can you help me find that, Katherine Hepburn?)
Chicago!
Join me for a free reading of a new play this month, produced by About Face Theatre!

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You got like 45 minutes, tops, on this bag of spinach,
Eric
