Last Call

I can’t wait until my Meta Me — the digital version of me — becomes a reality.

His name is “Sir Alex,” a mix between “Siri” and “Alexa,” which seems appropriate since my middle name is Alex. It will of course have a gender-correct male voice.

This alter ego will conveniently be modeled after me from about 20 years ago, when I still had a full head of hair, slept through the night and could run up a hill without heavy breathing and having to take breaks in-between.

It will use all the power of artificial intelligence but filtered by my own interpretation of facts, which he learned by analyzing all my personal data. The decisions and actions Sir Alex takes are based on my personal thinking except that they are enhanced by his forward-looking capabilities by having access to all the databases in the world.

Sir Alex will be my official spokesperson, which is not a problem since we are now mostly meeting virtually anyway or just resorting to text or e-mail. He will always be clean shaven, dressed to the nines and never be late for a meeting. His mood is always positive and his focus razor sharp because he does not succumb to emotions like euphoria or self-doubt.

Sir Alex will conduct all my official business, like running a company, starting a new nonprofit organization and all the annoying administrative stuff like making sure our tax CPA has all the documents needed to file the returns on time.

It will read all the news at night and then give me the highlights in the morning, and of course it will store all that information forever so that I can ask him anything.

“Did we buy the tickets to the next HHSO concert yet?” or more complex questions such as, “How will the stock market react if Russia invades Ukraine?”

This frees up a lot of time for my real, physical self, which I can use to do more of the things I care for like helping my son drive his RV across the country to its new college destination, go sailing more often, finally read the books that have been stacked up in my library, teach the students at the Boys & Girls Clubs how to cook a true Italian pasta recipe from scratch and do more research on an idea that has been stuck in my head.

I know some of you call this retirement, but that’s simply not a concept I can envision myself doing full-time.

So, Sir Alex comes in handy since it gives me the illusion that I keep on going and going.

As a matter of fact, Sir Alex will be around long after I’m 6-feet under the ground, so that the grandkids won’t need to ask, “What was Grandpa like?” Instead they can ask, “Can I visit with Grandpa today and see what he thinks about my soccer play?”