December 2, 2001

WHERE'S MY ROBOT?! They said there would be robots.

I want my robot butler. That's the first thing I think on those dehydrated, too-early mornings after one of my infrequent nights out: I want a glass of water. Where's my robot? Or at least the computerized system of bank-style vacuum tubes that bring me my heart's desire at the push of a button. Sort of a robot house. Where's my robot house?

That would actually work out a little better for me, seeing as my natural state of household clutter would preclude my robot's getting around freely. My robot would tump over on one of the many shoes, doggie bones, and piles of ebay goodies littering my floor. Or its gears would get all clogged up with dog hair and mud. I'd definitely need a self-righting outdoor-type robot for my messy house, especially around the holidays, when I'm particularly piggish.

Oh my god. That wouldn't be a problem because the robot would clean up after me. Wow. I really need that robot.

I distinctly remember them saying we would have robots and moon colonies and solar energy and the metric system. All lies. I knew even then that the moon colonies were hogwash, but what about solar energy and the robots? Surely we should have clean energy and efficient, affordable household robots by now. They would be a luxury item, of course, of course, but certainly no more expensive than a Tivo.

Tivo, on the other hand, is a completely genius advance no one ever bothered to promise. (Mine's actually a ReplayTV, but that just doesn't sound as cute. Tivo sounds like an adorable little electronic pal.) I guess our civilization has evolved more in the direction of consuming television than of being waited on.

Back when they were telling us about the future--which seemed to be happening a lot in the late 70s (I don't recall hearing much about the future in the 80s--maybe the whole threat of nuclear annihilation thing blotted out our national Jetsons fantasies)--back when they were talking about the future, we didn't even have cable yet and VCRs were still expensive novelties, so it's natural that imaginary technology was geared toward service rather than entertainment.

But as I sit on my fat ass watching the last two days of Passions and wanting another glass of water and some coffee, I can't help wishing it had gone the way of the robot.

11.13.01