




"The Past is gone, the Present lost as it arrives. There is only the Future."
When I was seven, I once remarked to my schoolmates that I was going to be an astronaut when I grew up. I would get married at 24 and have two children and drive an E-Type Jaguar (at the time one of the most streamlined streetcars available). Forty years on, I cant drive at all, will never reach space and have the smallest practical car to carry my loving wife and two children. At that time, I looked forward to a future of glass and steel, monorails and aerocars and world peace. I think I must have bumped my head on the desk at some point, as I was obviously hopelessly myopic.
Everything in the sixties promised a new Space Age - it was a time of plastic and funky design, bright colour and limitless imagination. Designers and engineers sold us a slick, streamlined world of open highways, clear skies, velvet reaches of space and the means for anyone to travel them.
As I write, the building im working in shakes, quite violently sometimes, as the old hospital site adjacent to it is torn down. My office is in a building which has stood here since the 1950's alongside the old hospital where my daughter was born 12 years ago. Very shortly, the site will be clear and work will progress on the new development.
Shall I expect to see golden towers of plexiglass and arcologies of spun steel ? Will the future hold nanomachines silently busying themselves over the construction of organically styled homes as hypersonic jets leave doughnut shaped vapour trails in the blue sky overhead ? Somehow, I doubt it.
For the foreseeable future, I think the only space age I will enjoy will be made of plastic, but on a considerably smaller scale than I first thought in 1969.
When I was seven, I once remarked to my schoolmates that I was going to be an astronaut when I grew up. I would get married at 24 and have two children and drive an E-Type Jaguar (at the time one of the most streamlined streetcars available). Forty years on, I cant drive at all, will never reach space and have the smallest practical car to carry my loving wife and two children. At that time, I looked forward to a future of glass and steel, monorails and aerocars and world peace. I think I must have bumped my head on the desk at some point, as I was obviously hopelessly myopic.
Everything in the sixties promised a new Space Age - it was a time of plastic and funky design, bright colour and limitless imagination. Designers and engineers sold us a slick, streamlined world of open highways, clear skies, velvet reaches of space and the means for anyone to travel them.
As I write, the building im working in shakes, quite violently sometimes, as the old hospital site adjacent to it is torn down. My office is in a building which has stood here since the 1950's alongside the old hospital where my daughter was born 12 years ago. Very shortly, the site will be clear and work will progress on the new development.
Shall I expect to see golden towers of plexiglass and arcologies of spun steel ? Will the future hold nanomachines silently busying themselves over the construction of organically styled homes as hypersonic jets leave doughnut shaped vapour trails in the blue sky overhead ? Somehow, I doubt it.
For the foreseeable future, I think the only space age I will enjoy will be made of plastic, but on a considerably smaller scale than I first thought in 1969.