The Talking Post

From the eyes of a 3 year old.

Grandpa and Lila approached the intersection.

“Oh, Grandpa, can I press the button?” Lila asked.

“Sure, Lila. Can you reach it?”

“Of course. I’m three now.”

She was barely tall enough to reach the button, so she pressed it and waited. He vaguely remembered the thrill of doing big people stuff when he was her age. The small thrills in life were meaningful back then.

Cars passed in front of them, and then the turn arrow came on for cars going their way.

“When can we cross, Grandpa?”

“When you see that orange sign over there turn white, then we can walk. Here, grab my hand and I’ll help you cross.”

The sign turned to a white hand and the digital voice said, “Walk sign is on across State Street. Walk sign is on across State Street.”

Holding hands, the two walked across State but Lila continued looking back as the blinking hand had turned into the 24 second countdown.

“Grandpa, where’s that lady? I don’t see her.”

Grandpa turned his head but still walked forward, cognizant of the countdown.

“What lady?”

“The lady telling us it’s okay to cross the street, Silly.”

“Let’s get across the street and I’ll tell you where she went.”

They got to the curb with six on the countdown sign.

As a retired electrical engineer, Grandpa knew that his granddaughter didn’t want to hear about all the concepts and theory of the artificial digital voice. She merely wanted to know where the lady was.

“Lila, I think she ran up the street. She forgot something at home.”

“Oh, okay. That lady gets around because I heard her when I was with Grandma yesterday. Hope she gets a lot of exercise.”

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