Jul 4, 2006
7:27 AM
It’s a brutal and peripatetic life despite the encroachment of the automobile. Where do you put the damn things? Automobiles need a lot of asphalt, or concrete, in order to function properly. And while our vehicles are unwanted, we use gutters, garages and parking lots to hold them while we go about our business. Which means we have to traverse hot, hard, ice covered, chewing-gum-encrusted expanses of pavement. And while we traverse we notice who is rich, poor, handsome, or overweight by the parked ride they drive, and through direct observation. And even though we are moving—progressing—we feel distinctly unproductive. Don’t we? Only in America could one feel unproductive while moving toward a just Target.
In the future, we will have our credit cards taped to our license plates, and when we pull into the Wal-Mart, sensors will detect our desires, robots will gather our desired products, load them into our cars, and our credit/debit cards will be charged while we cruise through the parking lot at a crisp sixty-two-and-a-half miles per hour. We will be more efficient and insulated. The only human interaction will come from the geriatric greeter who will wave and smile at us as we enter the on-ramp.
That’s what Ill do for a job when I’m semi-retired; smile, wave, and hurl an occasional insult; "Hello, dumb ass!"
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