Play Artist

It has just downed on me that I live in the future. That’s right. I live in the future of my childhood, when people talked in video-phones, and ate things ready from small boxes or bags, and flew to space, and drove flying cars.
Granted; cars don’t fly yet. But pretty much everything else is amazingly similar.

I wake up early. (Ok, just rarely, but it is known to happen.) It’s 8:30 and I put on my turquoise and brown bikini’s – not the nasty Brazilian type, but the ones with huge bottoms, to match mine – and head to the community pool. I stretch my beautiful matching towel, lie down, put on my miniscule ear buds connected to a really diminutive device that plays over four thousand songs with amazing stereo quality, besides displaying photos and movies, and get my phone. And my phone is future itself: thanks to it I check on all my recent emails, reply to some, read documents, exchange text messages with my team, access the web. Actually, I do my early check-in for an upcoming trip to South Africa. I work. And I’m by the pool. I feel like one of the Jettisons.

But what really brought this up to my mind was today’s lunch time.
I got into my great new car, connected my iPod, pushed a little button in the wheel panel, and commanded: Play artist Matt Nathanson. A beautiful and artificial female voice confirmed: now playing artist Matt Nathanson. And it started.
I always knew this was coming some day. I actually voiced it to my mom, when I was little, that one day I would be able to work from the beach – and no, I was not picturing selling fried fish and beer. But now it has happened, I can’t seem to stop being amazed by it.

Now all I’ve got to do is wait for the teleportation.
It might take some time until it becomes commercially viable, but who knows how long my generation will live with current genetics advancements. And then, who will need flying cars anyways?