Omigawdomigawdomigawd! To think I was thinking about spending almost $200 on a P-51 model just so I could hang it from my ceiling and daydream about killing Nazis over the skies of Germany! (Looks down, digs a toe in the dirt.) I can’t believe I could be so swayed to spend the family’s limited budget on a model airplane. I mean sure, it came with a transmitter and everything so it was ready to fly once the battery was charged, but how incredibly selfish I was to think such a thing! I’m so embarrassed and ashamed. I’m scum. I am that which one scrapes from their shoes with disdain. I should be flogged and sent to bed with no supper!
For only $700 I could get a DJI Phantom Quad Rotor Drone, complete with camera mount for a GoPro Hero camera. It comes with an autopilot so it is perfectly stable and simple to fly. The on-board computer actually flies the aircraft, following the suggested course that the pilot (me) issues through standard R/C flight controls. If the battery gets too weak, the drone will land itself, ensuring a safe return to terra firma, avoiding the stomach turning Icarus-like fall from height like a bowling ball dropped from the Leaning Tower of Pizza. (I know, it’s actually Pisa, but when I first heard of the architectural error I was only six years old or so and I thought they said pizza. So it’s been the Tower of Pizza ever since.) Not only that, but if something interrupts the radio control connection to the ship, the clever little whiz will just sigh and return to its starting position and land itself. Thus, if one was to lose sight of their drone, rather than wonder where it went and whose baby it is now, one could simply shut off the transmitter, grab a snack and wait for the lost puppy to drag its waggy little tail home. I Love Technological Toys. (That should be a bumper sticker)
I managed to find this alluring gem as I was searching for an abrasive that was powerful yet wouldn’t scratch the porcelain of my toilet. Those monkeys who remodeled my house made a boo boo in my bathroom construction. They didn’t cover the toilet as they were grouting and tiling, and a layer of dust built up on the water that rests in the john. It dried, and in doing so, left a concrete-like ring at the level of the standing water. I have been scrubbing away at it with brushes, rags, Scotch-Brite and any number of products like Comet, Ajax, Mr. Clean and others, all to no avail. Don’t ask me how Google managed to get “really cool quad rotor droid” out of “scratchless toilet scrubbers” but suffice to say, it did. I suspect that it may have something to do with Google collecting every bit of information about you so that it might “enhance your browsing experience,” which is to say, it slipped this in knowing my affinity for quad rotor drones. Stealth advertising.
It’s a sexy looking thing, all modern and handsome wearing it’s white dress uniform replete with red stripes that just scream –I don’t know, red stripes? It was made to be used with the GoPro Hero sports camera, also sexy and modern and about the size and weight of a pack of cigarettes. Turns out 1080p HD video or high definition stills. Of course, the camera doesn’t come with the Phantom, that’s another $400 you need to cough up. Thank God I already have one of those, so my cost for a camera to use with the Phantom is zero. (Note hidden flaw in this logic) So, I need only come up with the $700 for the drone. For this, I would have to have a discussion with my wife.
“Honey, look at this!” I bubbled, holding up an image hot off the Epson printer.
“Uh huh.” she said, enthusiasm already oozing from her pores.
“I want to buy one of these.”
“Don’t you already have about 50 of those things? Dusting them keeps running me out of Swiffers.”
“I have six of them.” I replied indignantly. “And they were all $300 or less. This is entirely different.”
“How much?” Her voice carried some suspicion.
“Um, they sell for $700.”
“Whoa! How are you going to come up with that kind of scratch?”
“Well, I have some ideas….”
“I can hardly wait. Let’s hear them.”
“I could claim $10 annual income on our taxes and claim two million in deductions and buy it with the refund we’d get.”
“I think the IRS would come for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I already thought of that. When they come and knock on the door, you open it and when they ask for me, you say ‘never heard of him’ and shut the door.”
“I’m not going to be an accessory to tax fraud.”
“I could run for public office and use campaign donations to pay for it.”
“Nope.”
“I could get elected to public office and use the bribes all elected people take to pay for it.”
“Still no.”
“Okay. Well, I suppose there’s the oldest profession. I could sell my body for the money.”
“Bob, You know I love you, right?”
“Okay?”
“Then you know I’m just being objective when I say hahahahahahahahahahahaha.”
“Ouch.”
“Look, just pay for it with a credit card and pay it off a little at a time. I mean, if you really think you have to have it. It’s not like we need to eat or pay bills.”
“Oh sure, when all else fails, resort to guilt tripping.”
It was obvious that my spouse didn’t share my wonder and excitement over this technological marvel designed for the everyman. Of course, I’m not every man. But I really do have a deep and abiding respect for toys that could prove useful, and this could really prove useful. I mean, what if we went to war? Why, I’d be a hero using my drone to Obamanate enemies remotely. I’d have the power of the President right in my own palsied hands. Even if there wasn’t a war I could still use it to perform surveillance on sunbathing neighbors. (I mentioned this to my wife and she told me I was disgusting. I reminded her that some men sunbathe too, which raised her eyebrow and brought a wistful expression to her face.) So it’s not like this is just some useless toy.
This is recreation!
