• Humanoid Appearance:  To be built to nearly life-size scale (4-5 ft tall).  Proof of Concept will be controlled remotely by a human operator; it should exhibit an animated demeanor and a congruity of motion so as to deceptively seem, to a casual observer, autonomous or even self-aware.
• Mobility:  Device will be able to self-propel on a reasonably flat surface, and through obstacles comparable to a human.
• Dexterity:  Included "Robot Arm" module will be able to turn a standard wall light switch on and off, and to open and shut a standard-sized room door, navigate through it, and close the door after itself.
• Lift / Transport Capacity:  Device should have no problem lifting an object weighing up to 10 lbs off of the floor and transporting it to another location (interior to exterior or vice-versa).  This requirement shall not necessarily be met by the "Robot Arm" module; that is to say that the robot arm shall not be required to lift 10 lbs off of the floor in addition to performing its dexterous features.  It could be achieved by building another opposable robot arm, or even by attaching a non-appendage apparatus to the chassis.
• Cost:  Total cost of all electrical and mechanical components not to exceed $750, excluding PC Controller, skeletal components, fastener hardware, or containers to be used as chassis.  Cost does not include "Engineering Contingency"; i.e., if a $20 motor controller catches on fire and has to be replaced by a more robust $75 motor controller, the $75 will be added to the final cost but not the $20.

The idea for this project occurred to me when Robbie was two years old. My wife, with her degree in Psychology, explained every thing he did in Psychology terms. It was something called "Templating". A German Shepherd is a dog. So is a Chihuahua. They have more in common than they have differences. Robbie has stored in his memory a Template for "Dog".

When I was in the 11th grade, I was destined to be a computer programmer.  My teachers and parents supported this, and every summer instead of pressuring me to do normal teenage activities, such as being really good at sports, they sent me to Engineering Camp.  But I had other ideas.  I was fascinated by Animal Intelligence.  My college admissions letter (I still have it) shows me as being accepted into the Anthropology department.  I wanted to be one of those hippies, working with primates in a laboratory, teaching them sign language.

It wasn't long before fate intervened.  I wrote some crappy poems, and an English teacher really liked them.  She wrote in my journal, "I am really looking forward to seeing your writing get published."  She wasn't even my actual English teacher; she taught something called "Communications" at the Engineering Camp, but that was all the intermittent-schedule reinforcement I needed.  I hastily wrote to the University of Miami that I wanted to be an English major instead.

That was nearly twenty years ago.  Today, despite having been rejected by some of the most prestigious Creative Writing MFA programs in the country, I make a living as a DOT NET computer programmer.