It was inevitable that I would have to introduce my family to Glass. Walking around at the next holiday dinner and wearing a computer on my face would probably trigger some well-justified curiosity. Being previously tech-averse, I knew this would be a big unveiling, and I wanted to introduce it in as positive and enthusiastic a way as possible.
With an upcoming brunch with my dad's family, I decided to take Glass for a test drive. I rehearsed my phraseology and sharpened my fluidity with Glass to ensure I came off, to their technologically untrained ears and eyes, as an expert in my new gadget.
Although I'm more introverted in public, I am much less shy around my family, so I decided to make a show of wearing Glass into the restaurant. I marched up to the table with a big, self-satisfied grin on my face, feeling something between pride and embarrassment as I pretended that the computer on my face was as natural as the blue in the summer sky.
They reacted with as much enthusiastic curiosity as I could have hoped, and while their positive responses empowered me, my nine year old sister was the one who stole the show.
With nearly nineteen years between us, my sister and I aren't exactly your standard siblings, and in many ways, we are complete opposites. Where I wanted to please others when I was her age, my sister is headstrong and single-minded in her pursuit of pleasure. For example, when I tried rehearsing with her single-digit multiplication facts, her eyes glazed over, and her self-inflicted ADD tendencies flickered away conscious thought.
"Rochelle, what is two times four?" I asked.
"Seven," she replied absently, her eyes roving the restaurant in search of anything but math and numbers.
"Wrong. And you know it. What is two times four?"
"I don't know. Let's go play. Come on, Ashley!"
I thought for a moment and concocted what seemed like a brilliant plan. "Sure, I'll play with you."
"As soon as you tell me the product of fifteen times four." I grinned and turned back to the adults, convinced that I had put her in her place.
Four seconds later, "Sixty. Let's play!"
That's the kind of little sister I have. I adore her, and while she may not be the standard academician, she is both bright and an independent thinker.
Fast forward back to her introduction to Glass: for a few minutes, she watched me demonstrate to my dad and grandparents how to use Glass. Then, she boldly asked, "Can I try?"
Sure, I figured. Let her give it a try. I'm curious how long it will take her to figure this thing out. With a few directives from me, she managed to navigate through many of basic voice commands. I decided to give her free reign to try out as many functions as she possible. My mistake wasn't in giving her an open invitation to Glass surf on my account; my mistake was in diverting my attention to something else. In that absent moment, as I further explained Glass to my dad and grandparents, she managed to voice initiate a video call to someone on my contact list. I managed to connect the dots just after she said his name, and before I could stop the call, my friend had already picked up, his small image just visible to me on Glass's screen.
I would have done a better job explaining the situation to my poor friend, who had obviously only woken up because of the incoming call, had I not been in a fit of giggling hysterics. Video calling from Glass means that the person on the other end is seeing what the person wearing Glass is seeing. My sister could see my friend through Glass, as he was using a standard webcam, but he could see my entire family eating brunch and hear my sister talking with him. I can only imagine how confused he was. Fortunately, he was a good sport about the whole thing and graciously listened to her chatter before I finally garnered sense enough to end the call.
By the end of the meal, my sister had mastered voice initiated texting, taking pictures, Google searching, phone calling, and video calling. Of course, being a nine year old, her sole concern was when Glass would have games, like the ones on her tablet. When I apparently didn't adequately explain why Glass didn't have those games, she took to asking Glass, in her most playfully condescending voice possible, for the answer to why Glass doesn't have good games. Sometimes, sisters can be brats (and I say this in the most loving way possible).
Even if she did use my own toy against me, I'm excited that she intuitively figured out Glass, which I interpret as a positive harbinger for future, juvenile Glass users. More importantly, I can officially say that my sister has been Glass-napped.