I remember what the future used to look like.
Maybe you do, too.
For the most part, in what were called the "Sunday Supplements" of America's daily newspapers (or the decorative endpapers of some of my favorite "Young Readers'" books), it consisted of crowds of healthy, happy human beings, men, women, and children, colorfully but lightly dressed for their weather-controlled environment, inhabiting glass and silver cities shining in the golden sun, swarmed about by tiny private aircraft, levitating automobiles, and individuals hurling themselves through the air on jet-pack harnesses, while an atomic-powered flying wing passed by overhead, and a V2-shaped rocket ship blasted for the stars.
That was the brilliant future I was looking forward to, when I was a little boy, lying on my stomach on my grandmother's living-room carpet, with the Sunday funny papers spread out before me, a future of teardrop-shaped 300 mile-per-hour passenger cars and people staring at slightly bulky instruments strapped on their wrists, asking, "Can you see me now?" That was the bright tomorrow I expected to be living in today.
And I wasn't the only one.
But something went terribly wrong between that time, 60 years ago, when Disneyland was shiny and new, and the drab, gray, soul-smothering present....