Wednesday, April 30, 2008
My Feelings: Day 7
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
My Feelings: Day 6
Monday, April 28, 2008
My Feelings: Day 5
Friday, April 25, 2008
My Feelings: Day 4
Thursday, April 24, 2008
My Feelings: Day 3
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
My Feelings: Day 2
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
My Feelings: Day 1
My Feelings: Day #1
Today, I felt really cold. I don’t know what it was—maybe a draft. But for some reason I think it was something else (probably not buttoning my vest). I wasn’t sure what to do. I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I put my jacket on, and that seemed to help. I don’t know what I would have done if it weren’t for my jacket. I really don’t know.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
User Friendly
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
My First Big Break
The house was big, there was no disputing that, but the living conditions were not ideal. All of the rooms were packed with desks and computers. And there were all these people there telling me to clean everything up. Plus, they wouldn’t even let me move in any of my things. There was this one nice guy, though, who would drop by and give me a check every couple of weeks. So I put up with all those other things.
However, after a little while, I finally got rid of all those desks and computers and brought in my bed. And guess what—everyone was mad. Even the nice check guy stopped coming by. Well, I guess around that same time they must have somehow found a closer living relative than me, because that first man showed up again and asked for the keys back. At that moment, I knew my time as a big shot had passed.
Friday, April 11, 2008
The Future: Are We Ready?
The flat metal piece turned out to be the head of my shovel, which must have broken off while I was digging. I put the two objects aside and returned to my work. It slowed me down considerably having to just beat the ground with the handle. However, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as the hang glider came to after a couple of hours and walked off. So I ended up not having to finish digging the hole.
I was about to start filling the hole back in, when I realized that it might be nice to have an extra foxhole around, just in case. I put the handle down and examined the strange, cylindrical box. It appeared to be some sort of time capsule. It looked old and had the words “time capsule” written on the side—a clue, no doubt. After several minutes of struggling with the lid, I attempted to pull it off rather than push it harder into the box. It came off immediately. I was shocked by what happened next.
When the lid came off, I heard “you have opened the secret time capsule” in a voice that could only be described as sounding like the wind. It was me that said it, in my whispery ghost voice. I had attempted that voice many times before, but had never pulled it off quite so well as this time. And that shocked me.
My eye caught hold of a single sheet of paper lying facedown in the box. It wasn’t folded, so I wasted little time trying to unfold it. Maybe only a couple of minutes. It looked like a page torn out of a diary. In big block letters, it was entitled The Future: Are We Ready? I read it aloud. The page was short, but still too long to read in my whispery ghost voice (although that would have been a great effect).
The year is 1994. The smell is of the ocean. None of us realize that in 14 short years, the oceans will be replaced by ocean-smelling-like robots. We will dip our robot toes into the ocean and an electromagnetic signal will tell our robot brains that it feels cold and wet. “That is water,” we will say with our internet voice-over mouths. A robotic seagull will then fly over and drop a computer chip on our shoulders. “Oh great! Our new shirts (holographs) are ruined.” We put a postcard into the mailbox, which is actually a wireless scanner that e-mails the picture to our friends Tom and Stacey. We tell each other (IR beam info out of our eyes to the others’ brains) that we will always remember this time we had together at the ocean. We put our leash back on our robotic dog/microwave oven and walk to our cars and drive/digitally transport ourselves back home.
In fourteen years! That would be this year—2008. It did sound eerily similar to our world today—or at least, what our world could be like in a couple of "big" months. But something was troubling me. The author used certain words that someone from 1994 could never have understood or predicted—like Internet, wireless, and seagull. How could someone from the past have known what our life would be like or would soon be like in 2008? My first thought, of course, was that the person must have been an alien that sees all time in the present and got lost here for awhile until getting zapped back up to his ship (or her ship—but I think we all know “how things are” on other planets). But then I looked closer at the page. In the top corner was written “Planet: Earth.” It was an earthling all right. That’s exactly how one of us would have written that.
At that moment, I got distracted. I noticed an old newspaper in the bottom of the box. I started to call out Eureka, but I thought better of it and just yelled Jackpot. I quickly ran to the phone book to call a bookie (FYI—it’s pretty hard to find a bookie in the phone book. Turns out that a bookkeeper is an accountant, and the other places are all libraries). However, I found a real bookie’s number on-line. I placed a bunch of bets on the scores of some baseball games. But I think this scheme would have worked better if the sports page had been from the future instead of 1994. One of the teams I bet $1,000 on doesn’t even exist anymore. All in all, though, I lost quite a bit of money.
I had thought that digging that hole would solve all of my problems, but all it did was burden me with more questions. Who am I? Why am I here? Whose shovel is this? Hey, isn’t my house blue, like that one over there across the street?
Perhaps, it is better to wait for the future to provide us these answers—at a time when we, and the future, are ready (last part read in a whispery ghost voice).
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Cool Calculator Trick
Start with your age
- add your home phone number (no area code)
- subtract the age you were when you realized that cats aren't the girl and dogs the boy of some generic "pet" animal
- multiply by the number of the day of the month you were born on
- write the word "infinity" on your hand
- divide by any whole number between 5 and 7
- Turn the calculator upside down
- multiply by zero
- add your favorite number
- press the equals (=) button and turn the calculator right side up
(this trick works on most all brand name calculators)