Clark’s Lament
Two tankers are set to collide. Fort Knox is being broken into. Lois is falling off a building, having been pushed by Lex Luthor. Glasses off, shirt opened, coat discarded…now to find a phone booth. Good luck with that one, Mr. Kent. The phone booth has gone the way of the daguerreotype, the telegraph, the carbon copy, the eight track player, Beta machine and typewriter.
There you go, Clark. That’s using your twenty-first century noggin. He takes out his smartphone and dials up Uber. That driver has seen it all. Tell her you’re late to deliver a singing telegram in costume. Hopefully she won’t ask for a sample.
Better love up the gadgetry today for it will be fodder for American Pickers in another half century. Who knows what will be next on the list of obsolescence. Hopefully not us.