Tag: future

At Home In The Far Distant 2001

This short McGraw-Hill film from the 1960s is remarkably accurate about 21st century homes. Surprisingly, where it’s off the mark is 21st economics.

This short McGraw-Hill film from 1967 gets most of the technology right and some of the design details wrong, but it’s remarkably accurate about 21st century homes. Surprisingly, where it’s off the mark is 21st century economics. Even though the 2020 pandemic field-tested many longstanding ideas about working and learning from home, many of the economic concepts about health insurance and working conditions are still far distant future concepts in 2021.

Something it gets half-right: the kitchen. Between modern appliances (the microwave, the smart crockpot) and mail-order meal ingredients (Blue Apron, Hello Fresh), the Kitchen of the Future is here now, but we’ve dropped the idea of incinerating our dishes at the end of every meal and re-molding the plastic. We can’t even recycle milk cartons properly. And imagine the smell and particulates.

The interesting thing is an interview with an industrial designer; after a tour of the glamorous new world of robotic cooking, they cut to a distinguished older man who designed this smart kitchen. “I think people will continue to make food the old-fashioned way,” he says sheepishly. “Because they enjoy doing it.”

One other oddity: In every 60s conception of the home of the future, from this to Disney to the Jetsons, living room ceilings are always at least 20-feet high, even in apartments.

Homebody, a travel story

Sarah looked around, which didn’t take long: The gas lawn mower; the partially filled hole described in his hilarious groundhog invasion story at the cookout last Saturday night; six useless flowerpots, cracked and spilling dirt; and the time machine.

This started as one thing and I’m not sure how it became this other thing. Then it became the prologue to a novel.

Tom entered the shed and turned on the overhead light. He edged over to let Sarah in. He motioned for her to close the door behind her. Sarah motioned that this was ridiculous. It drifted on its hinges and partially closed on its own. He shuffled over to the wall to the right of the door, the nail holding the rake snagging his t-shirt for an inch before releasing it. There wasn’t much room. It seemed a mistake to be in here wearing flip-flops. She kept her ankles as close together as possible without falling over while she found a level spot. Sarah looked around, which didn’t take long: The gas lawn mower; the partially filled hole described in his hilarious groundhog invasion story at the cookout last Saturday night; six useless flowerpots, cracked and spilling dirt; and the time machine.

“That’s the time machine?” Sarah asked, since he hadn’t offered.

“Homebody” at the Saturday Evening Post Friday Fiction