They Just Don't make Em' Like They Used To.

My Grandmother lived through quite a technological arc in her lifetime. She would tell me stories of how when she was little, her family would gather together and take turns sharing the earpiece for the giant tube radio that would allow them to hear the news of the day. Coming to them live. Through the air. Into their very own living room.

In her later years she had laser eye surgery. (Imagine the word "laser" being said in the clipped monotone of "Dr." Evil ... He didn't go to eight years of  Evil medical school to be called "Mister".)

I was looking through boxes of old photos on her patio one hot summer day as a twenty year old kid, probably just before or right after one of those delicious hand scooped ice cream cones that always seem to taste better at Grandma's than anywhere else in the world. I came across a black and white snapshot of my Grandfather, young and strong in those swim trunks that came almost up to the chest. He was posed before a giant yacht of a car, a Pierce Arrow with bubble fenders and a rumble seat. I started to laugh out loud, and my Grandma gave me a swat on the arm and said , "Don't you laugh! That was the fastest, most streamlined car in the whole neighborhood. Everyone wanted to ride in it."

I had actually been laughing at the bathing suit.

But that got me thinking.

Would someday someone look at a picture of me sitting astride my GSXR 750... capable of doing 150mph
and laugh out loud to see someone on such a dinosaur of a motorcycle?

"You mean they use to have motorcycles that drove on the ground?!"

More likely... they'd  be laughing at the George Michael hair.

My Grandparents were hip to the future tip. Grandpa was a gadget and gizmo guy that had a Poloroid before anyone else (remember the kind you'd rip out of the camera with a fantastic noise, peel and then wait while it developed?)

They had a "Hi-Fi", with lots of records in a cool brass wire rack. Old "Blue Eyes" has never sounded as good since.

I remember my eyes popping out of my head when my Grandpa first produced a remote control!... (and their T.V. was in color too!). All you had to do was push the button, and the whole channel knob turned with a resounding CLUNK.

And so it went: Radar range, food processors, electric razor.

But there finally came a day when they decided they had taken their last bold steps into the future.

My mom bought them a VCR. This newfangled device could record T.V. shows for later viewing, or you could even watch a movie on it whenever you wanted! First it just sat unopened in its box. Then it just sat on top of the T.V. Blink, blink, blinking 12:00 over and over as a testiment of unuse. Like This!

"It's too complicated." "There's too many buttons." "It's not worth the

effort."

Is this how it happens? Suddenly, with one device being the warning shot? I don't think that's how they saw it. In fact there may have even been a cordless phone that came along after the great VCR debacle.

I've been walking the tightrope of techno-relevance for some time now. I don't carry a cell phone. Everyone else has one and I don't like the whole idea of being psychically tethered to something that doesn't even have a cord. Few things irk me more than responding to someone asking a loud question in the frozen food aisle just to have them point at the Star Trek blue tooth thingy sticking out of their ear.

I have a Macbook Pro, and I couldn't resist asking my lovely wife for an ipod touch for my birthday last year. It's sooo shiny! But as much as I love the occasional video game, I am yet to get a Playstation 3 even though they've been out for years... and I have no impulse at all to dive into the Blueray market.

Well, if someday you find yourself talking on 3D iholophone in your flying car, and you look down and see me tooling along on my 150 LaVie Scooter listening to my ipod instead of my Sonic-Ear implants... just wave and offer to come over and help me figure out how to set the clock on my

Ultra-tivo-orangeray player.