Remember privacy? Maybe you have a shred of it left so you don't have to remember. Enjoy the feeling because it's about to go the way of the dodo bird.
The latest gadget that makes it possible to invade the privacy of another sells for $5-10 a month and involves inserting a chip into a cell phone. A column by a woman named Kim Komando (OK, I don't buy it, either) begins: "Did your kids make it to school OK? Is your spouse late because of traffic, or was there an accident? These kinds of worries can plague you. But new tracking tools can put your mind at ease."
You can bet a lot of nosy people and control freaks will rush out to get those chips. The big question is do you want to live that way? Do you want someone cyber-stalking your every move?
I sure don't. From the age of six I would have been in a constant state of rebellion. Not because I was out robbing a convenience store or visiting the neighborhood cathouse but because I have the right to stop for a cup of coffee at Joe's Diner without anyone knowing about it or asking why I did it.
Whether it was a mother, a teacher, a wife or a city editor snooping on my whereabouts I would have devised ways, devious ways, of fooling them. I would have made it my life's work, might even have gone into the business of helping others lay down a false track.
Cell phones can be deceiving, of course. The fact that it's at school doesn't mean little Johnny or Susie is there. Just because the chip in hubby's cell phone shows he is working diligently at the office doesn't mean he isn't down the street at the apartment of his mistress.
So what's next? Chips installed in the human body at birth. To make the system effective immediately, everyone will have to report to a clinic and have one installed. Failing to do so will be a felony. At the jail one will be forcibly inserted. Then criminals on the run will commit murder to grab someone else's chip. A new step will be necessary, a chip hooked up so its removal will be fatal.
Far fetched? Don't kid yourself. It isn't science fiction, it soon will be reality. I'm glad I won't be around to experience it, glad I'm not a day younger than 84.