Henrietta Hay's Column

I learned a new word today, one which I could have gone all the rest of my life without knowing. The word is paraphonics. It has not made Webster yet, but I suppose it will get there soon since it is the generic word that describes all those new high-tech systems that make telephoning so difficult for us.

I had a minor skirmish with the major oil company that bills me regularly each month. I innocently called the 800 number that appears on the bill after those cordial words, "If you have any problems call this number." I was greeted by a lovely warm male automated voice. It almost sounded alive, but there is no way it could have been. "It" said, "We are pleased to offer you our automated service. If you have your account number please press 1. . . Please enter your account number. . . Thank you. . . If you wish information about billing please press 1. . . If you wish something else please press 2 . . . etc. Several lovely warm male automated messages later I was told that if I wanted further information I could press a much higher number. I did, and sure enough, I got a lovely, warm female voice, but this time it was alive.

And oh what a difference that made. This live female person was pleasant and caring and knowledgeable. She felt sorry for me, soothed my ruffled feathers, solved my problem with dispatch and then settled down to visit a bit. It was she who explained paraphonics. She told me that their system is state of the art and that, considering the volume of incoming calls, they could not possibly serve their customers without this kind of streamlining. I know that she was absolutely right, but I still don't have to like it.

Who among us has not had this same frightening experience? We even get it from our friendly Mesa County government. To get a live person in the Finance office you have to listen to a menu of seven departments and choose which of those seven numbers to press. I do know we're living in the real world and machines are cheaper than people. But I'm always a little suspicious, dealing, with a whole army of tiny invisible telephone robots running around inside the wires carrying out my commands.

I have the same reaction to bank drive-up windows. I stick my card in and a twenty-dollar bill slides out. The only way that can happen is that there are busy little green men back there peering at my card number and my request and then peeling a bill off the pile. I always fear that one of them will think my card is a lotto ticket and decide to keep it, but that has never happened. They are honest little green men.

A fast food joint in Silverthorne has eliminated conventional ordering. They furnish computers with beautiful color screens. Once the surprise wears off you punch the right squares and the little multi-colored elves inside tell you how much you owe. Later real live human hands take your money and hand you your hamburger without a word being spoken.

As a computer nut I know I am not making much sense. I really am sympathetic to progress. I marvel at the complexity of these big telephone systems even while bemoaning them. And on my own level, I sit here with my word processor wondering how anyone can write with a pen. I even have my own little green man in the form of a silly software program that has a kitten chasing the cursor around the screen when I get bored. But --- !

I think my real problem is that I don't read enough science fiction. With all those amazing high-tech and higher-tech advances coming in the future, paraphonics is pretty tame stuff. What makes mechanized phone systems bearable is the fact that eventually you get to hear a real human voice and you hope that it will be warm and pleasant and helpful.

I will, however, feel that things have gone too far if I ever call either of my sons and get this message: "Welcome to the Hay residence. If you are a friend, press 1. If you are my mother, press 2. If you are soliciting money press 3 and hang up. If you want to sell me something don't bother to press anything. Just hang up."