Column: Welcome to the future

Dear Readers,

Emil Faber, the illustrious founder of Faber College, is widely quoted for his profound statement: “Knowledge is Good.”

As I prepared to write my awesome New Year column, I was reminded of another of Faber’s nuggets of wisdom, “Prediction is very difficult, especially if it’s about the future.”

Emil wasn’t kidding. Trying to see past tomorrow is harder than finding a ripe avocado at the Dollar General.

As with most difficult tasks, preparation is key. The Oracle at Delphi would enter a prophetic trance by inhaling sulfur fumes.

In my younger years, I employed a similar method using the noxious bouquet of an old bottle of Hai Karate. This, however, only produced visions of 1960s fashion fads making a comeback and gave me horrendous headache.

Clearly, I needed a better method.

My predictions for 2026 came to me not in a sulfurous cave, but in a dream induced by a large slice of fruitcake (denser than a black hole and twice as mysterious) washed down with a glass of absinthe-infused eggnog. I then instructed my trusty AI sidekick to write an awesome column while I fell into a deep, if somewhat tumultuous, slumber.

Upon waking, I discovered that AI once again pulled a column out of the ether.  Here are prophecies for the year to come:

The Shelbyville Public Square will become a major tourist destination when Todd Sexton, local president of the John Dillinger Historical Appreciation Society, mobilizes the membership to transform downtown into a 1930s theme park. Capone’s Speakeasy will remain, but Cadillac Jack’s will be rechristened Pretty Boy Floyd’s Lounge & Loan, and the old Pudder’s building will become Jay Gatsby’s East Egg Emporium. Rumor has it the horse-drawn carriage rides will be replaced by getaways in a souped-up Ford Model A.

The Helbing, our beloved giant stainless-steel sculpture, will become a powerful Druid magnet. On the Summer Solstice, June 21, the entire Druid populations of Rushville and Gowdy will converge upon it, not to worship the sun, but to work on their tans from its radiant, reflective surface. SPF 100 will be recommended.

Susie Veerkamp (photo), the Martha Stewart of Shelbyville, will guest-star on a surprise 2026 reboot of “Emeril Live.” She will demonstrate her legendary whisking prowess as Emeril shouts “BAM!” and hurls ingredients directly into her mixing bowl from across the studio. The episode will be titled “Kick Your Giblets Up A Notch.”

Downtown businesses will lodge formal complaints about a severe parking shortage. An investigation will reveal that every single space is occupied by Todd Sexton and his friends, who are all dressed in period-accurate zoot suits and refuse to move their Packards.

In a stunning turn of events, Caitlyn Jenner will announce a return to being Bruce in 2026, citing the realization that “being an old woman involves just as much waiting in line at CVS as being an old man.”

Local Bonded gas station’s introduction of Cajun-inspired chicken and red beans and rice will prove to be the last nail in the coffin of local restaurants.  Gas station food will become so popular that most restaurants will close.  However, Cagney’s Pizza King will install gas pumps and remain as popular as ever.

As a public service to reluctant readers (and perhaps as an act of mercy), Johnny McCrory of GIANT fm will grant me my own radio show. It will feature yo-yo tricks, a “Knock-Knock Joke of the Day,” and will culminate each episode in a dramatic, tear-jerking reading of this very column. Tune in. Or don’t. I’ll be here either way.

The entertainment world will be rocked when a long-lost birth certificate proves Elvis Presley actually died at birth, and it was his twin brother, Jesse, who went on to rock ‘n’ roll immortality. All records will be recalled and reissued, causing widespread confusion at oldies nights and karaoke bars everywhere.

And finally, in a historical twist, Google will report that the most-asked question of Siri by millennials in late 2025 was not about crypto or self-care, but the timeless, philosophical quandary: “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” 

The answer, according to Siri, will be “67.”

There you have it -- the future as seen through a fog of frosting and wormwood. Whether these visions come to pass or not, one thing is certain: 2026 won’t be boring.

See you there. Same Schwinn time, same Schwinn channel.