Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I plan never to purchase a vehicle from General Motors with OnStar.
Touted as a system to protect drivers by means of its many security features, OnStar seems more like A Big Snoop, than A Big Helper.
Oh, sure, the company will tell you that they can’t/don’t listen in on conversations taking place in the car, that the driver has to press a red or blue button in order to communicate with the OnStar representative, but, in the same breath, they acknowledge that if OnStar is faced with a subpoena, well, then, my friend, you can pretty much kiss all your privacy rights good-bye.
OnStar can order your car to stop running. The Visalia, California police were alerted to this handy feature when a car thief made the mistake of hijacking a Chevrolet Tahoe. The police were worried that they would be drawn into the sort of car chase that inevitably ends up on “Cops,” but thanks to OnStar, an electronic command was sent to disable the gas pedal, and the thief was caught, literally out of gas.
What could be so wrong with that? Well, for one thing, just think what might happen if your disgruntled ex-spouse worked for OnStar and had the means to track your every movement and to listen in on your every private conversation. If that doesn’t chill your biscuits, then you should have someone check your pulse for flat-lining.
What if a burglar-turned-computer-hacker disabled your car on a lonely road, robbed you, or worse yet, murdered you? No one would be the wiser.
Now that I think of it, OnStar is the perfect tool for a lazy hit-man. No more having to tail you in rush-hour traffic while praying that you stop soon on some deserted street. He can just sit back, relax, monitor your movements on the GPS, and then when he has you where he wants you, push the disabling button on your car. I’ll bet Lee Child is working right now to incorporate this ploy into his next best-selling Jack Reacher thriller.
Although I don’t approve of this intrusive technology, I figure that as long as it exists, I might as well get my very own OnStar device, one that would let the air out of the gasbags of whichever political party I find offensive. Just let me point the device at the TV, press the button and whoosh! Down they go!
While we’re at it, how about adapting it into a device I could have used yesterday to disable the car of a nasty woman driver who flipped me the bird right after I honked at her for wandering into my lane? I could have turned off her engine, sped around her car, and flipped her right back before she knew what was going down.
I could also have stopped a rambunctious teenager (aka, soon-to-be-organ-donor) on a motorcycle who insisted upon weaving in and out of traffic on I-80. Let that be a lesson to you, son.
Point and disable. I’m beginning to like this more and more. I could point it at the IRS building. Don’t even think about auditing one “R. Sorenson.” I could point it at my mortgage banker. Give me a 2% mortgage or I’ll vaporize you. I could point it at the neighbor whose dog terrorizes me every day. Sorry about your master, Fido.
Perhaps it is, after all, time to wish upon Onstar.
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Rosie Sorenson is an award-wining writer whose work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, and other publications. Her new photo essay book, They Had Me at Meow: Tails of Love from the Homeless Cats of Buster Hollow, is about her thirteen years of loving and being loved by a colony of smart, funny feral cats. To learn more and to purchase the book, please visit her website: www.theyhadmeatmeow.com.
