future sex...
Ok, maybe what I'm trying to say is that the future has turned out to be a lot like sex, sometimes... the anticipation was far better than the fulfillment of same...
Remember those great old magazines of the fifties and sixties, that promised, one day, you'd be flitting about the skies in your own personal helicopter, or live in a self cleaning house complete with mechanical servants that would bring you dinner as you sat before a holographic fireplace, reading the evenings 3D newspaper, after sweating out a four hour work day? How about those gleaming automobiles, that looked like either Flash Gordon's Rocketship or a stainless steel Hudson Hornet (I'd settle for either one), that drove themselves to wherever you might command, while you caught a quick forty or chatted with your equally mobile family members via the transceiver implanted in your brain? How about all those cities encased in sky-high glass domes, with climate control, no crime and automated taxicabs? Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, fellow time travelers, but it ain't gonna happen. They lied. My personal helicopter turned out to be a Buick, that transceiver turned out to be a cheap ass cellphone that I wish was never invented and the only mechanical servant plodding the halls of Stately Sad Old Goth Manor® is yours truly.
The future never looked so bright... anyway, as Kid Various has been wont to say on occasion, "Where's my fucking robot"?!?
If you want to get even more depressed or just have a laugh at what was supposed to be, click the pic of the good old Popular Mechanics magazine to be swept away into the future that should have been...

Enjoy and try not to get too depressed, I mean, there's still hope, right?
later
what say you..?