I have fond memories of emerging technology from my childhood. I remember listening, in awe, as my father put a pair of headphones on me and played a track from Pink Floyd’s Ummagumma with wonderful sounds clearly coming from the left and right, and a bee buzzing in one ear and not the other. I remember my father getting a car phone. Not a mobile phone, not a cell phone, but a car phone. Hard-wired into the car, with a pigtail antenna fixed to the back window and wired through the car to the phone in the center console. We watched the Jetsons and longed for the days when a robot would cook for us, clean for us, and make our lives easier. We had this vision of a world in which automation and technology let us sit by the pool and sip margaritas that a robot would make and bring to us with a tiny umbrella. What we never imagined is that the robots would take away the pool also.
Barack Obama spoke my language. He spoke in a way that was familiar to me. He spoke like the many very intelligent people I work with speak, but arguably much better than most of us. He spoke with a meter, and his words were chosen carefully. For those of us who spend our time listening to people lecture about complex topics, and who spend our time listening to educators give lectures, his speech was familiar.
Then we got Trump.Continue reading “Speaking my language”