The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Sunday, March 12, 1995                 TAG: 9503090184
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST           PAGE: 08   EDITION: FINAL 
COLUMN: Coastwise 
SOURCE: Ford Reid 
                                             LENGTH: Medium:   60 lines

NAGGING MACHINES ARE THINGS I CAN DO WITHOUT, THANK YOU

Trying to call a friend in Georgia the other day, I got a busy signal. But as I was hanging up the telephone, I heard a voice.

``We're sorry,'' the voice said, ``but the line is busy.''

I'm not fond of being told things that seem obvious - I know what a busy signal means - but I was so taken aback that I stayed on the line. The voice then offered to leave a message for me that would be delivered as soon as my friend hung up his telephone.

``No thanks,'' I said. ``I'll just try again later.''

The voice didn't reply, so I hung up the phone.

There are many good things that have been brought to us by modern technology, but machines that talk are not one of them.

My mother-in-law used to own a car that talked.

``Buckle your seat belt,'' it would say.

``You're getting low on gas,'' it warned.

``Turn off the lights,'' it scolded.

That car was a real nag.

It is bad enough to do something stupid, like leave the lights on when you get out of a car, without having a machine remind you of just how stupid you have been.

There was no way that I could figure out to make the car shut up. It could talk, but it couldn't listen.

Stores are big on talking machines.

``Welcome to Consumer Heaven,'' the machine greets you as you walk through the door. ``We hope that you will spend all of your money, then borrow more, and enjoy every minute of it.''

All of this makes me a little bit nervous. I should be used to it by now, but still I always look around to see where the voice is coming from. I find voices from nowhere very disconcerting.

Airports, too, are big on ethereal voices.

Every 30 seconds or so, someone that you can't see - someone that nobody can see - welcomes you to the airport, tells you not to smoke and reminds you that you are on your own in catching your next plane.

This voice is incapable of conveying useful information. It will not, for instance, tell you that your flight has been canceled or that all of the restaurants in the airport are closing in 10 minutes.

A few months ago, I was seated on a plane next to a guy who had a talking briefcase.

We were deeply involved in the usual, meaningless airplane chit chat - ``What do you do? Oh, that's interesting.'' and so on - when his briefcase said something that I could not understand.

``What was that?' I asked.

``Oh, just a reminder that I have some work to do,'' he said.

We all have bosses to remind us that we have some work to do and when they aren't around, spouses fill in quite nicely. I'm not sure that we need briefcases to fill in the gaps. by CNB