Date: Thu, 19 Oct 95 11:59:14 -0700
From: Peter Langston <psl>
Forwarded-by: firstname.lastname@example.org (Keith Bostic)
Forwarded-by: Carl Staelin <email@example.com>
Forwarded-by: firstname.lastname@example.org (J. Stuart Read)
This lady always wanted an expensive car -- a status symbol to drive
around and be seen in. She scrimps and saves, goes to the dealer, and
plops down several years income for a brand new state-of-the-art, computer
enhanced, kick-ass, dream mobile. She's driving off. Decides she wants
some music and searches for the radio. The dashboard looks like a control
panel at NASA. She fiddles with this button, that gizmo... jiggles these
and those, but finally gives up. Can't find the damned thing.
Furious, she races back to the dealership and screams at the salesman.
Tells him they forgot to install the radio.
He assures her it's right there in front of her. It's hooked into the
onboard computer. All she has to do is tell it what she wants. He
demonstrates: "Classical", he says *click* the car fills with the
sounds of Paganini.
"Blues", he says, and *click* a B.B. King classic plays.
She drives off amazed. "Country", she says, and *click* a Tex Ritter
tune comes on. "Folk" *click* Joan Baez sings about the night they
drove ol' Dixie down. "New Age" *click* Yanni at the Acropolis snaps on.
She's so captivated by this new toy that she isn't paying much attention
to the road. Another driver runs a light and cuts her off.
"ASSHOLE!!!" she screams.
"Good morning, everyone. You're listening to the Rush Limbaugh Show."
© 1995 Peter Langston