He sat in the chair, transfixed on the clothed canvas before him, hints of what lay beneath poking out at various points. His anticipation growing by the minute, he was afraid he was going to burst before this was all over.
She slowly revealed her canvas, piece by piece. The art danced before his eyes, mesmerizing him as more and more of the picture was exposed. What he originally thought was a collage of disparate pieces began to coalesce together into one masterwork. Soon everything was revealed and it took his breath away.
She smiled a coy smile. “Want to have a closer look?”
He was shaking as he approached. Even mere inches away the art was unbelievably complex. His excitement threatened to explode. What stood before him was amazing in every way.
She giggled. “I knew you liked tattoos, but I didn’t expect this.”
He blushed. “You’re beautiful too.”
Those people that thought Elvis was still alive made Travis laugh. It had been almost 41 years since that fateful day and yet Travis could remember every intimate, crazy detail like it had been yesterday. He was supposed to play Utica, New York on that tour. Why on earth had they booked him in Utica? Well Travis was happy it never happened.
Travis chuckled at that thought as he looked out the nursing home window. He spent a lot of time thinking about the past and what might have been. That was how Travis spent most of his time. Getting older may suck, but the alternative was worse. Besides, being 88 wasn’t that bad, really. He still could enjoy his music and his peanut butter and banana sandwiches. He then remembered the sequined jump suits. Man he hated those. Who thought they were a good idea? They made him itch.
As the 3D printer printed out another iteration of his robot’s body, Martin pondered if this method of construction could be considered hand crafted. He had designed the robot shell in Autodesk Inventor, carefully putting in every curve and thickness. He had precisely lined up the mounting holes so that all the electronics would fit perfectly with just enough space to make it relatively simple to assemble while making it look tight and tidy to an outside observer. He had put the previous prototype together, piece by piece, including programming the behaviors himself. He had molded those behaviors, creating new routines and shaving off excess commands till the code was beautifully efficient.
As Martin watched that previous prototype scurry along the floor, he decided it was hand crafted in this new digital age. That means he could claim to be a robot artisan, and Martin like the sound of that.
These humans are so funny wanting to live forever. I watch them doing so many things to increase their uptime. No matter what they do though, their memory banks become cluttered with updates and their wetware well, that’s the problem with wetware. It wore out in no time. Analyzing the situation, I realized the humans were trying to figure ways around this limitation.
Some humans think at the end that you just reboot. Of course the reboot process was never perfect, and depending on your efficiency of programming you might get a wetware upgrade. That was if you believed in so called reincarnation. Some thought the great reboot wouldn’t take place until the system administrator came back again. There were even other humans that believed that when their wetware stops working that they would go to another operating system where their programs would run in perpetuity.
These humans are crazy!