The Tomorrow That Never Came

It was the late 1980s and somewhere just outside Jacksonville, Florida, on the way to Cape Canaveral, it was going to be our first side-stop on the way to our main goal, Epcot Center in Orlando’s Walt Disney World. This was the Deep South, but aside from the accents still carried by my grandparents you would’ve never guessed it. The aesthetics of that era was a uniquely American one. Regional and ethnic identifiers were mostly drowned out by the loudness of the neons, pastels and brand names that were emblazoned over everything that you owned. It’s not that your ethnic background wasn’t known, it just wasn’t that important. What was important was style and the corporate logos that marked your identity.

I was a pre-teen and a skater kid. I wore Airwalk tennis shoes, mid-thigh shorts, a sleeveless mesh shirt and cheap Kmart sunglasses with plastic neon frames. My skin was bronzed and my normally light brown hair now carried a tint of gold, due to the long summer days at the beach and the skate park. I spent all of my childhood summers with my grandparents in Jacksonville. My paternal grandfather was a former Marine and fireman. He had become somewhat of a local hero after saving dozens in one of the city’s worst hotel fires. He was a “man’s man” who stood tall and proud. Every year he had a trip planned for his grandkids and this year’s plan included the Kennedy Space Center, along with Disney World’s Magic Kingdom and Epcot Center.

I passed the giant spaceships that were on display, pointed to the heavens, and headed right up to the main building. The Moon landing was accomplished by my grandfather’s generation. It was done by men who looked, talked and walked just like him and I found those exhibits dedicated to the landing fascinating. I was a true NASA fanboy and the future of space travel seemed to be limitless. In one century, we had gone from the beaches of Kitty Hawk to space travel being something that was taken for granted; it was just something that we did and nobody thought it was strange. Space shuttle launches had become a common occurrence, commuter aircraft had now broken the sound barrier and the only question now was, “What was going to come next?“

Walt Disney saw the cities as being horrible and dangerous places in the future and, before his death, tried to build an “experimental prototype community of tommorow” (EPCOT) in the Deep South. It would show the world how the city of tommorow should look and function, and would closely resemble his Disney Land theme park in California, in cleanliness and order. The city never came to be because the money changers couldn’t figure out how it would increase their shekel collection. However, in the 1980s, the “amazing world of tommorow” theme was  alive and well. And, on full display at Walt Disney World in Florida.

It was a day full of monorails, man-made wonders, and the dreams of an amazing future. I bought into the whole plan. I remember distinctly, on a ride that I was sharing with my grandmother, they were showcasing the potential gadgets of the future. One exhibit showed a housewife speaking on a video chat in her kitchen. “One day, that’s gonna be us,” my grandmother said in her soft, coastal, Southern accent that gets in a hurry for no one. “You’re gonna call me from Louisiana and we’ll be able to see each other at the same time that we talk.” Of course we were going to have all these things, who was going to stop us?

I’ve been raising millennials for over 20 years now. I’ve watched how an entire century of innovation, that was intended to be placed in their hands, has just been tossed away. This “American Dream,” that my previous 11 year-old skater kid self believed in so fervently, is now coming apart at the seams. If you’re unsure which tribe of people that you belong with, you better find out real quick because I can assure you that the “other” knows their people. It’s no accident that when Christian morality left the building, so did the innovation and hope for the future. Virtues like self-sacrifice and deferred gratification are what’s required to build a sustainable future and you won’t find them in the imperial capital. Not today. What you will find is a bunch of sexual deviants who will put no price on their instant gratification, which is why the Walt Disneys of the world have been replaced by Epsteins.

She was right, you know. It was great to hear her soothing voice again while looking into her loving eyes, even if the screen was a tad glitchy at times. I knew my grandfather was sick and that I would have to make that trip again, travel across Dixie to see him. It had been over two decades since that summer trip to Central Florida. There would be no super-sonic travel options. The space shuttle was a thing of the past. Even the airports were worse than the decades prior. Not only has aviation innovation been in a coma, now you have to bear the harassment of Third Worlders and invasive pat-downs just to board a flight.

I chose to drive and avoid the big cities by gassing up in between. Most larger Southern cities are miserable and managed by sub-90 IQ politicians, politicians who promise last century’s accomplishments to their base in exchange for votes. They’ll be stripping aluminum off of airliners before long. To be completely honest, driving on the interstate was not a joyful experience either. The roads were dangerous and under constant construction due to the amount of interstate traffic and the eighteen-wheelers. When I did stop at a truck stop for a bathroom break, I had share it with scores of illegals who have  apparently never used modern plumbing before.

I finally reached my Gram’s house. I could see that, without the strong presence that my Pop brought, the city would no longer be a safe place for her. Or, for anyone for that matter.

The “world of tomorrow” is today. And, it looks nothing like the future Walt and I expected.

-By Charles