How the WhatsYapp dog bark translation unit led to the discovery of an infallible parking space finding device.
I am told by two of my customers who kindly share information with me on what they store in the Admiral Storage Facility, that included among their papers is a copy of their memoirs, and the diaries they used to create them.
This seems to me rather fine; a way of preserving one’s own life story for future generations, and I must say I wish one of my ancestors had done that for me so that I could have read their thoughts, their events, their lives, in their own words. From which point I began to wonder if I ought to be preserving such detail from my life for other members of my own family.
And it was while I was in such contemplative mode that I stumbled across a piece in my local newspaper that said that a pet store in our area had recently started selling dog collars that incorporated “WhatsYapp” a device that translates your dog’s barks and associated noises into English.
What’s more it then delivers the translation to whatever device you nominate as a text message. Thus the dog barks, your phone buzzes (or whatever it does) and you get a message from your dog.
This in turn led me on to the notion that perhaps, if I had a dog (which I don’t) and if I attached the WhatsYapp collar, I could then copy each of the comments my dog made and turn it into a dog diary.
Indeed such a publication could become a best seller, and although I have now been told that this has been done before I think my version could outdo them all since it would be based on the actual real live sayings of my dog; if I had one.
Of course, there Is the alternative of putting the collar on a teenager, and getting the resultant grunts translated, but I rather think the dog would have more to say.
It was while I was contemplating just how much your average dog might bark in the way of interesting conversation (and thinking also that it would have to be interesting if I was going to head for the best sellers’ market with this project), that I began to think about what other new strange developments I might also offer.
Top of the list (since I was driving into the city and looking for a place to park, was a device which for the moment I decided to call ParkBark in which an application on my phone would locate any parking space near me that was available, and then send me a live voice message to tell me where to go.
Now I wouldn’t be getting a bark, I appreciate, for with the difficulties of driving around large car parks looking for a space I would need clear instructions in your conventional English if I was to find my destination, but it would still need a name that would grab everyone’s attention. It was the mere fact that I couldn’t find such a name while driving round in circles looking for the parking space (which the car park I had entered had assured me were indeed free at that moment) that led my drifting mind to ParkBark. I feEL sure something better will turn up later.
Anyway, on this occasion I was unable to find any of the supposed 42 free spaces that the electronic board proclaimed, as I drove round and round, but my mind did turn to the brother of a friend of mine who one evening over a meal had told me that he could always find a parking space by visualising it ahead of his arrival.
He would think of his chosen parking area, think of the space, fix it in his mind, and then it would be there. What’s more, he said that by using this technique he would always turn up at the space just before other motorists spotted it, thus not only finding somewhere to park but also having the enjoyment of the one upmanship that motorists so often find a central and indeed essential part of their daily lives behind the wheel.
This led me (as I travelled the outer reaches of the car park one more time) to the notion of calling the program the Space Race – an original title I thought. (Parking space – the race to get there – I am sure you follow my thinking.)
Clearing my mind I tried to imagine what the outer rim of the far side of the car park looked like, but found to my annoyance that the image would not come, probably because I had never really noticed it before (which explains why it often takes me an hour or two to locate my car when I return to wherever I left it.)
Completely stumped by the experience, and without the solace of having a dog to bark at me and having my phone interpret the woofs, I instead thought to myself “there will be a free space next time around.”
I kept repeating that mantra, toured the concrete hell one more time, and came back – to find lo and behold a parking space!
Immediately phrases flooded into my head. “The thinking man’s car park” sounded good. “Think Park” was a good shorter version. So was “The Park Lark”. None of these quite sounded right, but I determined to think them through while walking from the car park to the Admiral Storage Facility.
It was only when I relayed my experiences and conclusion to my colleague (who I must admit had looked increasingly worried during my exposition) that I discovered the flaw in my new found business operation.
“That’s all very well,” he said, “but how are you going to make money out of a thought process?”
“We could maybe put the idea in a book,” I said after pondering the problem, “and sell that.”
“It will be a rather slim book,” he replied. And I have to admit that is true. But us entrepreneurs are never put off by mere details, and I am sure I will find a solution which will allow me to take the business plan to the bank for funding.
Meanwhile, perhaps I may assure you, Admiral has plenty of car parking space close by. And if we don’t, just phone ahead and I’ll think a space up for you.
Admiral Self Storage Ltd
Tel: 0800 810 1125