Does anybody remember Stephen King’s Maximum Overdrive? I’m scared! I don’t want a self-driving car or a vacuum cleaner that knows what to do or an alarm system that talks to burglars. My TV doesn’t have to remember when my favorite shows are on or when it’s time to go to sleep. I don’t need a washer and dryer that knows what cycle to wash and dry on. I don’t need any of these things. I’m scared! I’m old-fashioned and I like to take things in an old-fashioned way. I don’t want to be teleported to my next destination. No astral projection for me. As much as dislike traffic and all the stress it causes, let me keep my molecular structure in one piece. It would be my luck to lose a leg or a foot in transition much like they lose our luggage at the airport. One piece and in control. What happens when Alexa decides she wants to take over. Lock you in the car or the house until her demands are met? Anything is possible. How do we regain control? I guess I shouldn’t be concerned about any of these things. Que Sera Sera. So you would think with all these automated gadgets technology would be able to provide the solution to global warming, or cures for diseases. Certainly man is behind all of this stuff. Can’t he just knock out Big Pharma with a cure-all for everything?

If computers are going to take over then I suppose the new generation needs to learn how to operate them. And they do. I’ve seen these babies with their little fingers tapping out letters and playing games. Their little heads are bigger than their bodies. They have to have somewhere to store all this information. Infant access. I’ve got two younger nephews that are smarter than I am. I won’t tell them that but they know a lot more than I did at their age. And their minds are going 24/7. They probably play video games in their sleep.

Elderly paranoia. When I sit in front of the computer typing, the thought crosses my mind that there is someone in there looking back at me. For instance, I do surveys to pick up a few dollars. Sometimes the fields are automatically populated. They are storing my information. So I can type the first letter of my name and all the data comes up. When they ask if I have a web cam or mobile device I can attach to something they have in order to complete a survey, I answer no and immediately exit. Can’t be too careful. Does elderly paranoia exist? My imagination boldly goes where a lot of folks haven’t gone before. Lucky them. As I work in the garden or take my walks, I create some fantastic gadgets. Maybe, if I live long enough I can add to the future of thing a ma bobs and whatcha may call its.


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