I just know I'm going to be unable to handle the new-fangled technology.
There I'll be, yearning for the good old days of sale hunting, and second-hand lane browsing. And my grandkids will show me a 'clothes synthesizer', and they'll say, "Grandma, put this on and think of any clothes you want to wear. And this will rearrange the molecules around you to form whatever clothes your'e thinking of".
And I'll think of the most outlandish clothes just yank their chains. And they'll give me their patronizing and tolerant smiles and totally spoil my joke. And then often, my mind will go blank, and they'll scream, "Mom!! Grandma's naked again! Ewww!!"
And I'll try to go for a walk, and they'll say, "Grandma, don't you know you can die breathing the air out there? We have the 'location simulator', its so convenient. Why would anyone want to go out?" And they'll force me to put on yet another appliance while I glumly jetset virtually all over Paris, Rome, the Bahamas, bleh.
And I'll forage for my old CDs of the bands of yesteryear, and they'll say, "Grandma, why do you want to listen to other people's records? Put this on, and you can simulate any music you want. You can create your own music, crafted to your taste." And I'll say I want to go to a live concert, and they'll say, "But you can have your own audience, instead of being one of the audience". They'll give me an 'audience simulator' who will scream and sing along and do the mosh pit to whatever music I churn out. Hmmm.. I kinda like this last invention.
And I'll say I want to go visiting friends, and they'll take me to another appliance which will teleport me to wherever I want to go. And if I make calls, a holographic image of me will be projected to whoever I want to speak to. And I'll mumble that when visiting friends, the journey to their place and the anticipation of meeting them is part of the pleasure. And they'll look at me as if I've come from another planet. Or maybe not, because my family will be spread around the moon, Mars and Venus, and they don't treat them any differently.
I'll reminisce about how their granddad would come over from Luangmual to my place to visit, and how we used to talk for hours on the phone. And they'll say, "Grandma, your'e joking right? There is no Luangmual. There once was, but that was centuries ago. And how can you talk for hours without seeing each other's faces?" And I'll say that it was easier to say some things when you can't see their faces, and that it was wonderful to hear the smile in someone's voice over the phone. But they would never buy it.
And I'll talk about how, after a date, we would sometimes ditch the ride and walk home. They'll say, "No wonder your'e both so frail! Can you imagine all the bacteria and virus floating in the air?" And I'll tell them how I sometimes dieted to maintain a youthful figure, and they'll stare in bemusement because all their foods are synthetic and are fat-free and everyone has fabulous figures.
And they'll love me and care for me. But the generation gap would be too large, and if my old man conks out before I do, I would be oh-so-lonely.
Which is why, by the time I'm old, I wish there would be a really good old people's home, where we old women would gossip and play 'in dawl chuh', and the old men would sit around talking about yesteryear's football and music and play 'in dawl chuh'. And we would have old-fashioned phones, where we won't see each other's faces, and old music players where we would listen to bands like Nirvana, the Stones, Pink Floyd, John Mayer.... And no new-fangled inventions here!
But I know my old man is soo gonna love the music simulator and the audience thing, so he'll probably sneak in one. But his love for the old masters will remain, and he'll burn me a mixed CD, and I'll accept it as if it were still 2005, and we would feel as young as ever..... :)