I was watching Blade Runner the other night with Dearest Son. The movie is set in 2019, and once again, technology has sadly failed us. Instead of flying cars and robots to do our housework, we just have the Internet so we can watch cat videos. Sigh.
It got me thinking about inventions that would really change my life. They all have to do with staying warm. Winter is coming, as those cheerful Starks like to say. As I write this, I’m wrapped in a scarf and am sitting under a blanket. Heat is still a challenge, Blade Runner. The old put on another sweater just ain’t cuttin’ it.
Clothes that adjusted to body temperature. You’re chilly? Not a problem! Your clothes warm up to suit you, automatically sensing your goose bumps. Those heating blankets they use in the ER if you’ve been in frigid water for an hour or two? I gotta get me some of those and make them into pajamas.
Lava Cubes. These would be the opposite of ice cubes. I’ve tried all those mugs that promise to keep my coffee hot to no avail. With the handy lava cubes, you just drop in the magical little thingies—let’s say they’re made out of radioactive decay (hey, it worked in The Martian!) and voila! Hot coffee for hours.
Socks that actually keep my feet warm. Every Christmas, my sainted mother optimistically buys me what claims to be the world’s warmest socks. Still, my poor little feet languish, ice-cold, inside them. I’ve tried the lamb’s wool slippers, cashmere, wool, cashmere/wool, fluffy, fluffy with slippers, all of the above. McIrish bought me battery-operated insoles, but they only work if you’re walking around, and since I sit most of the day, they are, sadly, a fail.
The reverse bed jacket. Did your grandmother have one of these? But see, it opens in the front, allowing cold drafts to ruin your happy mood. Also, mine would have to be made out of down. I’d put it on backward, but as my bed is up against a window, my neck might get cold, so I’d need it to wrap around. Sure, sure, it would look like a straight jacket. That’s a fashion risk I’m willing to take.
In the meantime, I’ll look like good old Bob Cratchit, sitting in my office with socks and my shark slippers, my blankie and my scarf, my little fingerless gloves. Maybe the cat will throw me a bone and lie on my feet. But hey. It’s a living. : )