Tag Archives: Gizmos

Jetson envy

Ever trwy to blog on a treadmill?

Don’t.  EvEr try it. Your hands bounce up and down on the keyboard and you find yourself inserting words and letters into places, well, into places you never intended.  And the CaPS sOMEetimes sticks makingyou look like you would be better offpracticing your typng.

It is realllly tough to walkan d chew gum but this is nearlyt imposissible.

I am doing this for a reason, you know.  You see my old dog has a new trick.  He refuses to go for a walk with me.  Well, he will go 4 minutes down the path at the park.  There are no hills at the park.  Cooper has grown out of hills.  I need to drive him to the park first, of course, picking him up to get him into the car and picking him up to get him out.  I am not sure if that qualifies as weight lifting, even though he IS 50 pounds.  I figure that equals 200 lbs of lifting when you add it all up.  Sounds like a lot to me.  Of course, since my husband John does all the lifting, I guess I don’t get brownie points for that.  Maybe I could lift some brownies.

So I took my uninspired writer-self down to the basement.  The man-cave, home of our treadmill.  I rarely use it because walking to nowhere, looking at the debris left here by my 20-year-old candidate for “Hoarders” is just too depressing.  But I felt particularly bovine today and therefore I was  inspired — I put a board across the handlebars and made the treadmill into a walking desk.

Damn, I’m handy!

Trouble is, walking makes my arms swing, so I am constantly knocking the laptop off the board.  Then I must lunge, while keeping pace with the treadmill, while grabbing at the laptop, wiping out any funny bits from my blog text.  I feel like George Jetson, in the old cartoon series.  You know that part in the credits where he’s walking his dog, and things don’t go according to plan?  With me and machinery they rarely do.

Which leads me to a question:

Of all the gadgets imagined by the Jetsons’ creators, how come only the ones that make us look stupid have been invented?  Where is my flying car?  Where can I get that talking Robot that cleans house?  And where the hell is that neat gizmo that turns frumpy Jane into glamorous Jane when Skype wants to take her picture for a video transmission?

I want one of those gadgets.  I’ll trade the treadmill for it.


Filed under Humor