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You know, my Uncle Amon is a character. He's got this thing where he believes he's some sort of modern-day Nostradamus. Last year, in 2017, he made predictions like he was the Oracle from "The Matrix" or something. I mean, who does that? He said, "In 2017, we'll all have flying cars." Yeah, Uncle Amon, I'm still waiting for that Jetsons lifestyle. I don't know about you, but my car is firmly grounded, and I'm stuck in traffic like it's the 20th century.
He also predicted, "By 2017, we'll have robots doing all our chores." I thought, great, finally, I can retire from doing dishes. But no, I'm still elbow-deep in soap suds. If anything, the only robot doing chores in my house is me, yelling at the Roomba to pick up its game.
And then there was the gem, "In 2017, we'll have teleportation devices." Uncle Amon, I could have used that when I was stuck in that traffic jam for two hours! Instead, I'm here with my car, my dishes, and no teleportation device in sight.
It's like Uncle Amon got his predictions from a sci-fi movie marathon. I'm thinking, maybe next year, he'll predict we'll have lightsabers and a Death Star in orbit.
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Uncle Amon has this thing about time travel. He's convinced he's a time traveler stuck in the wrong century. According to him, he was supposed to be a medieval knight. He'd walk around with a plastic sword, wearing a homemade suit of armor. I tried explaining to him that medieval knights didn't have smartphones, but that didn't deter him.
He even went to a Renaissance fair in full knight regalia. People were taking pictures with him, thinking he was part of the entertainment. Little did they know, he was just Uncle Amon on his time-traveling escapade.
I asked him, "If you're a medieval knight, where's your horse?" He pointed to his bicycle and said, "This is my trusty steed, the Prius of the medieval world." Classic Uncle Amon logic.
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My Uncle Amon decided that 2017 was the year he was going to get in shape. He was all about that New Year's resolution. He said, "This year, I'm going to be a lean, mean, fighting machine!" So, he went on this new diet craze. It was all the rage in 2017. It involved eating only green things, like kale and spinach. Uncle Amon was like a human lawnmower. But here's the thing – he hates vegetables.
He'd sit there, staring at his plate, mumbling, "This is not a meal; it's a salad." Yeah, Uncle Amon, that's the point! It's a diet, not a buffet.
And then he'd try to convince us all that he felt great, full of energy. But every time he stood up, he looked like a baby giraffe learning to walk. His legs were wobbling, and we were all just waiting for him to topple over.
By the end of 2017, Uncle Amon was back to his normal self, eating burgers and fries. He said, "You know, that diet was too green for me." No kidding, Uncle Amon. I could have told you that on day one.
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Uncle Amon is not exactly tech-savvy. In 2017, he got his first smartphone. He was so proud of it, like he'd discovered fire or something. One day, he comes to me all frantic, saying he lost his phone. I'm thinking, "Oh great, we're going to spend the day retracing his steps." But no, Uncle Amon had a different approach.
He said, "I'll just call it and listen for the ringtone." I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. But he was serious. He actually thought he could hear the tiny ringtone from the depths of the couch cushions.
So there he was, on his hands and knees, ear to the floor, shouting, "Ring, damn it, ring!" It was like a scene from a bad detective movie. Spoiler alert: the phone was in his pocket the whole time.
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