Saturday as the Fahrenheit rose and the humidity
blanket the concrete of Tokyo, I emerged from Ginza's subway's maze of
underground corridors. People flowed to the left and to the right.
Ginza Dori, one of the most traveled streets in the city was closed to
automobile traffic and until 7pm that night the pedestrians triumphed
over the mighty Toyotas, Nissans, Hondas, Mercedes, and BMWs.
Ginza could be compared to 5th Avenue on America, but even that comparison falls short of the reality of the real estate, the sheer numbers of high-end department stores, variety of shops, and exclusive brand name boutiques. This is a place people come to stroll and look with envy or buy items with glee. While walking past stores, I enjoyed watching the masses of women overwhelm the shoe sales men, the beat of the city, and the jaw dropping prices which accompanied many of the display window items. Yet it was at my final destination where I found such a real desire to acquire that scared me.
Entering a slender building to be enveloped in the cool ness of steel and glass, shiny metallic colors and flashing colors, I walked into the Mecca for electronics nuts round the world: Sony. All the latest models, a showroom model heavily Sony equipped BMW convertible two-seater Sportster, the yet to be released games to be played on the newest game consoles. You can even request which games you would like to spend time playing. There are 8 floors of pure entertainment that you can see, touch, hear, and play with.
Yet, in all the big screen TV, super fast computers,
precisely tuned sound devices, digital camera, and artfully crafted
cellular phones, it was a Sony's imitation of life that who's appeal
made me stop and question the dangers of loving technology too much.
There on a display counter were three of the cutest dogs I have seen in
my life. For the mere cost of
¥850,000, I could have walked home with a new puppy named AIBO.
Granted that pet costs less than the average ¥100,000 to ¥400,000 to
purchase a pure breed miniature hound here in Japan. The miniature
dogs which cruise the street of my neighborhood with their older owners
can be seen rocking the latest rain gear, jackets, and galoshes.
AIBO (a combination of Artificial Intelligence and Robot) comes in Super Blue, is Super Cute, doesn't bark loudly, chew on your favorite Italian heels, require walking, feeding, toilet training, bathing, vaccinations, or flea dips. He will walk to the front door to greet you after a long day at the office. He can be happy, sad, hungry, sleepy and playful. The cyber mutt even recharges himself after a long play session. AIBO has touch sensors so he wags his tail when you pet him. Voice recognition takes care of the need to grab the remote control when AIBO throws a software related tantrum.
When he comes out of the box, you
install his program on the computer and watch as AIBO is born.
He also names himself, with your help of course. Not to keep AIBO a puppy forever, Sony even has a
skate board for your new dog or if you don't have the extra two hundred
dollars to spend, AIBO plays with balls too. He can take pictures of you
and store them in his trusty Sony Memorystick. I played with AIBO
for twenty minutes before making way for a grou
p of cooing Mama's camera
toting Papa's and excited toddler. I said goodbye to AIBO and he said
nothing. My Japanese friend bid him a farewell in her native
tongue and he lowered his head, and swished his tail, while softly emitting
chirps. My desire to take AIBO home was cut in half.
I don't think I had the patience to take on another elementary school
student of English.
