Looking out my Backdoor: Beware the devious AI toothbrush

“This is the way we brush our teeth, brush our teeth, brush our teeth. This is the way we brush our teeth, so early in the morning.”

News headlines to nursery rhymes, that’s me. When I read that a toothbrush has been devised with artificial intelligence, that ditty swept full blown through my mind.

How nice, I thought. Aw, a new relationship. “Uh, hate to mention, but you need to pay more attention to your left lower molar.” “Gee, thanks. Will do.”

With rolling eyeballs, I dismissed the thought. But like a lot of nursery ditties, this one hung out with me all day which meant I inevitably gave further thought to the idea of a toothbrush with artificial intelligence.

Relationship. A new relationship. Yes, perfect analogy. And like many a new relationship, this one has all the inbuilt propensities for disaster. Having had a disastrous relationship or two in my past, I’m rather an authority.

I know of which I speak.

It starts innocently enough. Golleeee, an intelligent toothbrush. You surely will enhance my life.

A really intelligent toothbrush will keep silent at this point.

Once familiarity sets in, things change. “I wish you’d take care of your teeth before you shower, not afterwards — drives me nuts.”

“You neglected to squeeze that last shot of toothpaste from the tube. Waste not, want not.”

“By the way, during laboratory trials, we used XXX brand, not that inferior YYY that you use. I do wish you’d change brands for me. XXX brand is guaranteed to clean 25 percent better than YYY in lab tests in which I cooperated. And 80 percent of sub-intelligent human test participants agreed that XXX tastes better.”

“If you really cared for me, you’d quit drinking that nasty ol’ coffee and tea. Your teeth are awfully stained; surely you’re aware.”

By this point I’m ready to smuggle an old-fashioned brush on a stick into the kitchen and begin teeth hygiene on the sly.

But AITB won’t shut up. “I hear you, Traitor. Get back in here and brush, brush, brush. NOW!”

I suppose I could live with that kind of personal interference if the AITB kept its interference, I mean influence, to the boundaries of my mouth. But this is, of necessity, a relationship, remember?

And lest you think it far-fetched that I call this a relationship, remember, the TB contains some manner of intelligence. Harken back, if you will, to when you were a toddler and would not go to sleep without Blankie or Lambie Pie or Teddy and they were inanimate objects. Point made.

I almost can guarantee it will take little time for AITB, which you no doubt will have named by now, though perhaps not a flattering name, sorry, I digress, to move from “I wish you wouldn’t eat garlic” to “Slept in today, did you?”

Soon enough you will hear, “You spent how much on that? Do you really think you needed one?”

The day the toothbrush says to me, “Do you really mean to wear that in public?” is the day I go to the less-desirable section of town and after discrete inquiries, hire a hitman to abduct the tooth device on a day when I’m gone and behead it with a machete.

You don’t expect me to do it myself, do you? After all, I have a relationship with him, it, that. I can’t just toss him in the trash, can I? I can’t bear to listen to its pitiful screams, after all, once, we loved one another.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email sondrajean.ashton@yahoo.com.