One or two of you may remember that I wrote recently about the death of Roger.
For the one or two of you who give a shite, Roger was my SatNav who faithfully navigated me around Ireland and France, and did his best to kill me in the process.
I decided I needed Roger as we will be trotting off onto the continent again this Summer, and I confess I find it quite difficult navigating motorways while reading a huge Michelin map at the same time. The map tends to obscure the view.
The new Roger arrived the other day. The main reason I chose the model is that it has a larger screen, but it does have some other interesting features. One of those features is voice recognition. Naturally I had to try this out.
“Howya Roger” I shouted at it.
I tried a few more times, and eventually Roger responded, but only when I was holding the yoke in front of my mouth and yelling at the top of my voice. Not good.
I tried it again yesterday, while our K8 was in the car. Naturally she wasn’t impressed. She rarely is. She asked if I had to train it, and I said that no, it was supposed to understand me straight away.
“Maybe it’s your accent?” she suggested.
I pointed out that I don’t have an accent.
She replied that maybe that was the problem. She asked what options there were. I replied that I was given a choice of a load of languages including English [American] or English [British]. She asked if there was an English [Ireland] and I confessed that there wasn’t.
“There’s your answer” says she, “Try using an English accent”.
I tried that out last night. I tried a Geordie accent. No joy. I tried a Brummie accent [reputed to be the ugliest accent in the UK] and fortunately that didn’t work as it gave me throat ache. I ran the gamut of the various accents from Norfolk to Cornwall and eventually Roger started responding.
The English have a peculiar habit of losing their Rs, unless they are from the West Country. [No jokes about knowing their Rs from their elbows, please…] I ended up sounding like a Public School Jonathan Ross on steroids.
“Aaah yoo theyah, Wojah?” I would shout. And Roger would respond. Every time.
“White Wojah! Diwect me to the jolly old pub” I would shout. Roger would resume his muteness.
I can see I will have my work cut out training Roger.
Or maybe I’ll just go back to tapping the screen.