Okay, now I usually don’t waste that much time thinking about the fads in children’s toys. When I do, it truly saddens me – I mean, when I was a kid, there were some really great toys. Construx, capsella, lego / technics – everything a aspiring robot builder could want. I’m not sure that they were as educational as they were supposed to be – unless you count lessons in how much stress plastic will take as education on materials science – but still, they were really great toys.
The things the kids play with nowadays…
But I actually have a specific rant in mind. Tiger Electronics made a small robotic toy called a Furby. My sister got me a spin-off model, the Shelby, for my birthday – along with a really gorgeous wall hanging.
Now, Shelby is definitely cute. Nice color of purple, soft fur, eyes that look almost eerily alive (especially since they can look around), antennas, everything you could want for a robotic crab… Except for a few little details. The first little detail is that he’s robotic. Not just mildly robotic – and not able to actually move himself from place to place, as would be truly cool. Just robotic enough to get on your nerves. A typical exchange with Shelby goes something like this:
Shelby: Ay Ay Too-Too Wahooo! (Speaking shelbish, his own personal language)
You: Shut up, shelby.
Shelby: Shelby say, the shell is Swell!
You: Shut up, shelby
Shelby: Where is Furby? I want Furby!
No, I’m not making any of this up. The toy actually asks for another toy by name! Not only that, but a toy I don’t own. And I have no doubt, were I to go out and buy a furby, the two of them would have lots of fun beaming infrared messages back and forth to each other because they do in fact have infrared transcevers.
But I haven’t gotten to the worst part yet. The evil, insidious, downright malicious part.
Shelby is lacking something that almost every other piece of electronic equipment in my house has (with the possible exception of the clocks)
He doesn’t have a power switch.
In order to shut him up, one must put him through one of the preordained sleep procedures. These basically all take at least 30 seconds – while waking him takes only the lightest tap, or hinging his shell open a little bit so light will touch the CDs cell inside.
And, if that all weren’t enough, shelby is not a content little robot. He’s not happy to just sit and browse on the batteries he’s been given, when he’s turned on. Oh, no. Shelby wants things, and he’s more insistent – and more critical – than a two year old. As follows:
Shelby: Shelby say, scratch my back! Back is itchy
Shelby: Shelby say, scratch my back please
Shelby: Shelby say, you’re a party pooper
Shelby: Boring, boring, booooriiing (imitating a 6 year old going on 15, if you know what I mean)
Of course, he might be in a affectionate mood instead. That’s even worse. There’s nothing quite like having a hunk of plastic (precious little metal in one of these things) demand a hug, or announce in oh-so-cutesy tones that ‘I love ya!’. Right. All four bits of you. Gee, that gives you a total of sixteen emotions…
The last question, of course, is under what conditions our little purple friend here was assembled. I’m going to hazard a guess and say any robot with sound, light, and motion sensors, the ability to move his eyes, flip his shell open, and flip his antenna – and infrared transceivers for crissake – that goes for $30 is probably not a robot that was built in the old US of A. I’m going to guess it is also not a robot that was built by adults – so the question is, when shelby isn’t making my life miserable, is he and fifty thousand of his ilk making some children’s lives miserable in some sweatshop somewhere?
Hrmm…
Hopefully my sister’s not reading this. If she is, Jen, I did appreciate the gift. Really. And the tie-dye was lovely… Until next time, remember, shelby says doncha dare drop me.
(And every time he does, I get sooo tempted.)
The least they could have done is make him easily reprogrammable
