The first time I saw the delivery drone glide over the tree line of my backyard, I felt as if I’d been transported to the future.
I stood on my patio, bug-eyed, as the drone stopped to hover a few dozen feet above my lawn, floating there like the archangel of cheeseburgers. The trap door on the bottom opened up and a bright yellow bag holding my takeout dinner slowly reeled down on a red hook attached to a rope. The bag landed in the grass, soft as a feather, while my dog went batshit.
I rubbed my eyes: Was this what life would be like in 2050? Or was this just another symbol of zero interest rate policy burning through millions of investor dollars, subsidizing a frontier technology that nobody really needs? The answer was likely both—but man, was it cool.
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