A man from South Central Bell came to my first grade classroom at Davis Elementary 45 years ago. Yes, it's been 45 years.His name was Ott Brockman and I remember him predicting a future of robots and picture phones. He even showed us a model -- white frame, black screen, receiver perched beside it. George and Jane Jetson-style.
Fascinating!
But what if someone called when you had curlers in your hair, or worse ... what if you were walking through the house naked and your phone rang? Troubling.
All these years I've waited, expected. Other fantabulous things have come into my life. Televisions with hundreds of channels (then, we had two) and radio stations tailored to my whims (in 1960s Hattiesburg, everybody tuned into WXXX, affectionately known as Triple X, for the latest).
Now there are microwaves (no, we didn't have those) and voicemail (didn't have that either).
In 2012, we don't have to wait for a meal to cook or a boy to call
or a favorite song to play on the radio.
And now, thanks to an iPad with facetime, I have my very own picture phone.
As my grandmother would say: Oh my stars!
You are so clever.
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