A RACE AGAINST TIME

The Tufts Robotic Lab first received news of the competition in an auspicious white envelope, through a rather ambiguous message. “We have a competition of sorts, interested parties must attend virtual session on May 26th at 11:00 am.”

Several representatives attended, and immediately after formed the “Tufts Looking Forward(s)” club. Within weeks, almost every member of the University had joined: students, professors, janitors, groundskeepers and so forth. Anybody associated with the University was allowed to be a part of the team.

The next year, applications to Tufts skyrocketed. People across the United States were forming teams- schools, businesses, religious institutions- everybody wanted a chance.  And people were willing to put their lives on hold in order to have the best chance of working on the winning team. In fact, students failed their courses on purpose to remain eligible for Tufts Looking Forward(s).

Tufts Looking Forward(s) quickly split into many sub-groups working together, building something much greater than the sum of their parts. The greatest minds sat together, discussing their future. They considered all kinds of variables and worked with their diverse team to maximize their wholesome view.  There were no rules, but as the competition progressed the teams were given a set of instruction: The robot must be able to communicate with humans functionally, the robot must be able to consume information and stay current with the news, the robot must be able to move at least as fast as a walking human.

Time and time again, Tufts Looking  Forward(s) found themselves stuck. They thought the task was impossible. Their programming team rewrote everything multiple times. The engineering team was constantly reworking their plans. But over and over, they rallied together and overcame everything that was thrown their way.

Most teams didn’t have a chance. In the beginning, there were thousands of participating teams. After a few weed-out rounds, 97% of them were eliminated. In the end, almost all of the finalists came from esteemed universities. Some big companies- IBM, GE and Google- were able to progress far but mostly faltered as the examinations got more thorough. In preparation for the final rounds Tufts Looking  Forward(s) renamed themselves Looking Forward(s).

After three and a half years, there were four teams left: Tufts, Harvard, Stanford and Microsoft. The final competition was a televised debate, the four robots face-to-face. with a single human moderator. The stage was set. And after the debate, the winner was to be determined by a vote of any interested US citizen. After a three hour debate, voting began, and 24 hours later, Looking  Forward(s)was declared the victor.

On January 20th 2061, a robot was sworn in as the president of the United States.

EVERY MORNING

Every morning, he wakes up at 5:45 am. He gets out of bed, brushes his teeth, throws on jeans and a t-shirt, and is out the door by 6:00.

When he gets to his workplace, Marvin’s Marvelous Pets, the first thing he does is let all the dogs out. Next, he brews a pot of coffee. Slowly and methodically, he makes my way around the store and cleans up anything unsightly. On a good day, it’s only poop.

By the time he makes himself oatmeal, usually around 8:00, all of the birds, reptiles and fish have been fed.

The store opens whenever Mary walks in and powers up the cash register. For 27 years she’s been here. The sign by the door says the store opens at 9:00 am every day, but most days, it’s open much earlier. She’s never been late.

He makes his way through the rest of the store, feeding the mammals. From small to large, he says hello to every one and gives them fresh food and water. But he skips the cats. He saves the cats for last.

He used to hate cats. Now, he loves them.

I was lost in her eyes, her face, her lips.

We had been set up by a mutual friend, and we hit it off. We went to dinner, and stayed until the restaurant closed. I walked her back to her house, but we kept walking until the early hours of the morning. She invited me into her house finally, and we sat on her couch talking until the sun shone brightly in.

I was tired, and starting to fade. I couldn’t focus on what she was saying. First, I told myself that I was distracted by her beauty. But it was the fatigue, and I knew I needed to excuse myself soon. I didn’t want to. Not yet. Not ever. I hoped she felt the same way.

All of a sudden, a cat walked in. I flinched.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing” I shook it off.

She had mentioned a cat but I hadn’t internalized that it was going to be here. My mind flashed back to when I had been attacked by a cat. My first memory, and the scars were still there.

The cat jumped onto her lap then crawled over me, to the other side of the couch. I was slowly getting over my fear. This could be a good exercise, I told myself. It jumped onto the desk, then the bookshelf. All of a sudden, it leapt across the room, onto my lap.

Stunned and exhausted, I burst out laughing. The cat leapt up to the desk, and then the bookshelf. Without a hesitation, it jumped onto my lap again. And again. And again.

And suddenly, it stopped. The cat climbed to the bookshelf, but lay down, and did not move again until I left Mary’s house four hours later.

 The Cake Cone: A Quintessential American Treat

Part of my learning who I am as an adult has involved reflecting on things from my childhood, remembering what small things brought me joy, and finding ways to incorporate them into my life. For a few months, I added chocolate syrup to my coffee in the morning… exciting!

Recently, I have been re-incorporating Ice Cream into my life - naturally, a successor to cereal. Ice cream alone is great, but one day as I walked the aisles of the grocery store, I saw the red Joy Cake Cones, staring at me. And, they were on sale! For $2.49, why should I resist the temptation? This was why I was employed, after all - to live my life! That night, I indulged in some ice cream, and it was far better than expected. Ice cream alone is an elite dessert, but add in a cone, some texture, and the experience is elevated. For the first time in so long, I had regular, non-soft-serve ice cream with a cake cone. The nostalgia was off the charts.

Everyone has their own cone preferences - the big 4* being Cake, Sugar, Waffle($) and Cup*. As a kid, I gravitated towards the Cake Cone (cc). Though fragile, it seemed to have more structural integrity then a sugar cone. I liked the utter lack of taste - nothing to compete with the ice cream! And, I thought the texture was so intriguing - crunchy from some angles, crumbling from others, and interacting so sweetly with the melting ice cream.

A fun treat, for sure, and I was delighted to have purchased the cones. I speedily consumed the pack of 12 over the next couple weeks.

Putting aside soft-serve, the problem with cones is that in ice cream establishments, scoops are served as “scoops” - large balls of ice cream. These scoops sit on top of the cones, which allow for easy licking, but this also means that generally, the ice cream is consumed, and then the cone - not in tandem - the ice cream/cone dynamic is similar to the pizza/crust dynamic. I prefer the contrasting textures consumed together, which is why I used to order my ice cream in a cup, with a cone on top.

But, at home, I was able to experiment, and here is what I learned. Stuff your cones. Instead of making big scoops (a challenge at home) make little scoops, plop the ice cream pieces into the base of the cone, occasionally gently push the ice cream into the base to reduce air pockets, and fill the cone. At home, you can pack that cone up, then devour, getting mouthfuls of cone mixed with ice cream - who said being an adult sucks!?

I know what you’re thinking. WTF Yaniv - it’s been 4+ paragraphs and you haven’t even gotten to the title topic. The quintessential American treat. What? Why? Well, obviously, with the cones on my counter in recent weeks, I have had ample opportunity to consider them. And, the reason may surprise you.

The fact is, the cones, are a bunch of fluff, a lot of air, a whole lot of nothing! I thought they may be chock-full of sugar, corn syrup, unhealthy ingredient list a milelong? Not at all! And the nutrition facts? Not healthy, but also not unhealthy. 30 calories, 3% of your DV for carbs, but that’s it. Nothing else. Air.

Now, I feel like when I started this essay, I had a grander connection to Americana than whole lot of nothing, but I have been so distracted with my experiences of recent weeks I have completely forgotten where I began. Alas, time to eat a cone.