A few people, however, came come to me and asked, "Where are the regular everyday biometric applications?" As I peel their fingers from my lapels, I tell them there is one I am aware of that will soon be on the market.

Called Wireware, from NeuroSys, it is the first presentation product to address the issue of controlling the presenter's nerves at the podium.

Think about that. When you have to make an important presentation, the last thing you want is to have your body's nervous tics distract your audience from your message. Just like hardware and software, people are vulnerable to going on the fritz at the least auspicious moment, with the eyes of the world fixed upon them. In the blink of an eye, you can seize up, freeze up, and crash, and no one near will know how to boot you back up.

Wireware changes all that. It is a toolkit of wires leading toward the body -- electrodes, probes, and sensors that measure the body's characteristic responses, detect when one or another has exceed allowable parameters, and then transmits responses to bring those measurements back into line. Fully hooked up, the presenter has six shielded, color-coded wires running up sleeves and through shirtfronts, measuring heartbeat, brainwaves, body temperature, palm and mouth moisture, and the surface tension of the skin.

Here are the most common biological problems people experience at the podium, and the remedies supplied by Wireware:

Cotton-mouth. We all know the horrible feeling we get when all the moisture in our mouth and throat suddenly dries up. We open our mouths to speak, and instead of a nice, saliva-moistened voice, our tongue sounds like a spoon clattering in a can of green beans. That's where the first of Wireware's biometric sensors goes to work. The primary hypothalamic input wire (green) connects to your salivary glands. When sensors detect falling mouth moisture, they stimulate the glands to produce more saliva. Users are cautioned not to set the stimulation too high.

Anxiety attack. How many times have we stood up to deliver a solemn talk on an issue of grave importance to everyone assembled, and then gotten an acute case of the giggles, or could not be heard above the knocking sound of our kneecaps against the dais? The Wireware solution is devilishly simple. The electroencephalogram wire you slowly ease about three inches into your right ear (it looks like a bright red coat-hanger) faithfully clocks the ups and downs of your brainwaves. In the event of cessation of all mental activity, the system initiates a two-prong relaxation effort. Onscreen, it flashes subliminal messages to your earphone. Messages include: They really like me, What -- me worry? and Pearls before swine. Care must be taken to compose messages that have a calming effect. Certain messages (You really need this job and The eyes of Texas are upon you) have proven to have the opposite effect.

Cold extremities/sweaty palms. Why is it that at your moment of greatest glory, your body chooses to emulate the look and feel of raw shellfish? With Wireware's temperature and humidity controls, your hands will be as dry as your epithelial tissues are wet. Blue tubes and sensors running down the user's shirtsleeves combat clamminess with a puff of nature's own cornstarch. Available in Mountain Meadow and Unscented. Spray-on latex for the hands gives the presenter a confident grip on any size pointer.

Muscle spasms. Do audience members snicker at your helpless flailing motions? You can't make people kind, but you can quash pointless neural firing. Yellow surface tension sensors detect goosebumps, shivering, and uncontrollable jerking movements, and subdue them with micro-injections of the effective horse tranquilizer dopamine. Brings even the most fidgety presenter to a complete standstill. And we do mean complete.

Shaky voice. Is that pathetic squeaking sound you? Well, it needn't be. An embedded white Wireware voice synthesizer commandeers your voice center and completes your speech for you in a strong, personable voice, that reminded this reviewer of Peter Frampton's early work. Adjustable from basso profundo to bel castrati. Wah-wah attachment available from the manufacturer.

Racing pulse. No one can hear it but you (you hope): the incessant pounding drumbeat of your heart, which seems to want to beat down the door of your ribcage and dash, still pumping spastically, up the main aisle and out into the lobby to buy some Goobers. Well, we can't have that. That's why Wireware supplies a purple appliance no bigger than a travel iron which, attached to the chest wall, monitors heart output and steps in to regulate it on an as-needed basis. The maker of this device, Cardiac Startup of Blaine, claims it can increase or decrease normal human heartbeat by 500 percent -- over 20 times the range of so-called "competitors." Patent pending.

Restless audience. The subliminal approach cuts both ways -- it can easily be used with flashing onscreen messages to control audience temperament and mood. Now you can not only gain control of your own bodily functions, but control the will of all who listen to you. You can compose your own message, or use any of Wireware's supplied messages. Included are: What a sexy speaker! Don't get permission, just buy, and How about some zesty pizza?.

To ""Future Shoes"" home page

"A masterpiece of explanatory journalism!" - New Orleans Picayune "Fast, funny, and highly stimulating!" -Business Book Review Get your signed copy of The NEW Why Teams Don't Work by Mike & Harvey Robbins from Berrett-Koehler Publishers Just click on the book cover!