It started with a question. But then that’s how most things start around our house.
“Dad, what do you think the world will be like when I’m an adult?”
I was in the midst of “cooking” breakfast (is it really cooking when you just add milk? I’ll have to get my research team on that one). Oh, wow. Now there’s something to think about. The first think that flashed through my mind was a flying car – cool and sleek, a black shiny sports car that I was somehow flying. How cool . . .
But then reality crashed in, taking my precious flying car with it. And I wondered, what would the world be like. What problems and opportunities would my son (along with the rest of the world) face in another 30 or 40 years. What new cool conveniences would be available. I’m kind of a sucker (translation = “geek”) when it comes to technology, so I began to wonder how awesome smart phones and computers would be.
There were so many neat things to think about. Would there be more peace or war in the world? What new jobs would be available. And which ones would be obsolete. And would Inflategate and the New England Patriots still be a top story in sports. In 30 years, would I be cooking breakfast for my grandkids or would my robot be taking care of minor tasks like that?
Ahhhhh. The opportunities seemed wide open. Awe-inspiring. And I couldn’t help but feel a sense of enthusiasm as I stood on the cusp of the future and glanced toward the world that waited ahead.
Then my son added his own dose of reality that brought all those good feelings, like my flying car, crashing down.
“You’ll be pretty old by then.”
Hmmmm. I minor detail. Ok, I hadn’t quite thought of that. Yeah, I guess I will be pretty old by then. But I’m sure that advances in medicine and technology will have a pill or two that will have me feeling feisty well into my 150s. Well, at least my 130s . . .
Ok. Minor detail cleaned up. Starting to feel good again. Until . . .
“That’s only seven years away. You’ll be 58 by then,” my son proclaimed.
Ummmmm. Oh, you mean what will the world be like waaaaaay into the future? Well, why didn’t you say so. I thought you were looking way, WAY ahead, you know like 10 years or something.
Seven years?! Oh. My. Gosh. Well, at least when I only look that far down the road, it doesn’t seem quite so unknown or frightening.
Then I realized my son will be driving in just five years. AAAAAAhhhhh!
Now that’s a scary future that I don’t want to think about. And one more reason to delay the development of the flying cars just a little bit longer.