Today I went to an Apple store workshop about my new I-phone 5. It was at the ungodly hour of 8 am, the only time I can ever get.
Guess the average age of the attendees? Oh, about 72, I'd say. I felt young--that's the secret of feeling young, I see. Hanging around old people.
I felt pretty smart, too. I knew how to turn it off already, and was a tiny bit familiar with the map voice.
Speaking of voices, though, I just realize there was no mention of Siri, the robot voice of my phone. No matter how clearly I enunciate, Siri doesn't quite get me. Like when I asked for a story by Connor O'Brien, I got answers about the Congo. Where's my robot servant? The one we were promised when I was a kid in my 1960's classes, when they mentioned the future. And, of course, there's no George Jetson flying car. But there is already a driverless car, so I've seen pretty much of the future. And today's Times mentioned a new wrist phone that sounds a lot like Dick Tracy's.
It was cheerful, actually, to see these people even older than I, still adapting to the gadgets of the now, and trying to use whatever new stuff they've got to work with.