We've been teased by popular culture with the probability of flying cars for eons. Whether it's an episode of The Jetsons or the cinematic masterpiece "Back To The Future II." Science fiction in all of its shapes and forms has been promising us that eventually we would get our flying cars. It's the year 2002, shouldn't we be on the threshold of some sort of common folk transportation that would let us take to the airways in order to save us valuable commuting time? Lord knows, I've been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, frantically trying to make my way to my weekly Web Columnists Alliance of North America meetings on time for once. As I sit there in my limousine as Duran Duran's "Hungry Like The Wolf" plays on the radio, I look to the sky through my moon roof and ask myself, where is my flying car? As I take another careful sip of cognac, I dedicate all my thoughts to why, we, as a people, do not have our duly deserved flying cars. Then as my driver Gustaf suddenly steps on the brakes and honks feverously at the Hyundai Pony that just blatantly cut us off, I realize the truth.
I'm positive that all the major automobile companies have flying cars just sitting in their warehouses waiting to be sold to each and everyone of us. They're just sitting there, glistening underneath fluorescent lights, their rocket engines all fueled up and ready to take us to the corner store for a carton of milk in mere seconds. But they won't give them to us! Why? Because, before mankind can responsibly commute in the sky, we must first, collectively master commuting on the ground. You drive to work in the morning, you hear the traffic reports between the crazy antics of the wacky morning zoo and what do you hear? Three-car pile up on route 401. Fender bender on highway 7, closing the left lane. Tractor fire in the collectors, avoid at all costs! If an old biddy can barely negotiate a left hand turn how do you expect this to succeed in the air? Imagine the bedlam. Friday afternoon rush hour would make the infamous WWII air battle, the Battle of Britain look like a walk in the park. Commuters frantically changing "air lanes" in order to get ahead of the pack. Flying underneath bridges, doing inverted 360 degree loops and slipping in an out of skyscrapers in order to shave those precious minutes off their drive home. Older model "sky-mobiles" dripping oil and dropping rusty mufflers down on the unsuspecting populace. Madness! I'm sorry it will never happen.
As much as we have evolved as a civilization, we still emote the tendencies of our caveman ancestors. It is evident every time we take our vehicles out onto the road. Honking horns. Erratic lane changes. Road rage. We are clearly not ready to take to the air as a collective group. I realize that for now, the skies will belong to the birds and the daring jumbo jet pilots. But I still have faith. For I know, one day I will proudly pull out my goggles and silk scarf and be one of the many, the proud, who will commute in the air. But I until then, I remain….grounded.
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