Slept late, because the dream was so interesting I wanted to see where it was going.
Scientists somehow came up with what was essentially a magic number. If you used this number when you called somebody, the ensuing conversation would be perfectly clear, not just soundwise, but contentwise — there would be no misunderstanding. Both parties would get it, completely, total, perfect clarity.
There was some worry that this might not be a good idea, because maybe you didn’t want that level of truth, but they did it anyhow.
Amazing enough in the context, but wait! there is more!
I was allowed to test it, and the scientists arranged a call for me — to George Harrison. Didn’t even have to use a device, merely thinking of the person you wanted to call did the trick.
Hey, George. How’s it going?
We had a fascinating conversation, George and I, despite the fact he has been dead for almost twenty years. None of which conversation I can recall in detail, but the connection was the incredible thing.
Then, I went and got a Cherry Slurpee, and was irritated that, because it was too liquid-y, I had to wait for it to freeze properly. I mean, I could talk to George Harrison, but the 7-Eleven couldn’t get the slurpee right?
Woke up from that to watch a billionaire play with his new toy, based on tried-and-true technology older than I am. Listened to CNN and CNBC’s announcers gush and bubble as if this was the most exciting new thing since the wheel.
Gosh, wow, gee! Holy science fiction, Batman!
I am a space wonk. I got up as a kid to watch the first NASA launches, Shepard, Glenn, the moon missions, and I was impressed then.
Dueling billionaires? A rocket glider?
Chuck Yeager broke the level-flight sound barrier in the Bell X-1, launched from a B-29, in 1947. That was, according to the wiki, the 50th flight of the little rocket plane.
New right stuff, Sir Billionaire Ricky? With the shameless self-promotion and commercial in your victory speech? Spaceport in the New Mexico desert. Without enough water to flush the toilets? Tarantulas ambling across the tarmac? Quarter million bucks for a ride, up and down, home for dinner and bragging rights?
What you do today, Rodney?
Oh, well, I flew into space, got my astronaut wings, then zipped home in the new Gulfstream. How’s the veal? Cook wanted to try a new recipe …
Not as impressed as I was watching Alan Shepard in 1961 as the first American in space, and him walking in the moon in 1971.
Oh, the magic number?
Your mileage may vary …