If you Google my mother’s name, you will discover that she died seven years ago, the victim of a horrifying crime.
I know this because my mother, the vibrant and very much alive Peggy Kostelnik, called me and told me so.
“Well, I’m dead,” she said and I asked her to explain.
It turns out a woman who shares my mom’s full name and nickname and state of birth was murdered dramatically. That it happened during a presidential election year and at the hands of someone who entered this country illegally made my mother’s Google search results particularly dramatic.
Can you imagine Googling your name and discovering that you are dead?
Our pal Google is a shady, shady friend.
At once an indispensable resource and a shameless gossip, Google will invite you to a global party and then talk smack about you behind your back when you arrive.
I know this for sure.
And, still I value our relationship.
Thanks to Google, I know enough about axolotls to converse with a seven-year old who is obsessed with them.
I knew, because I Googled, that yesterday’s Packer game kicked off at 8:30 a.m. (and not 8 a.m. as I had been led to believe.)
I have relied on Google maps more times than I care to admit.
I use Google Images all the time when I am curious about what I’ve just photographed.
I Google recipes when I’m hungry, which is often several times a day.
I heard “Don’t give up on us baby” yesterday on the 70s on 7 channel and immediately Googled David Soul. Yes, he is still alive. No, he didn’t write that song. Yes he went to jail just like you vaguely remember.
I am a grateful Google One member and store all my photos there.
Google is there for me every time I swipe.
But, I don’t trust Google and neither should you.
Google isn’t always fair to the people it tracks. It isn’t always accurate and it can give you a false sense of confidence in your own general knowledge.
Check your sources, man.
Google can lead you astray.
