The Adventures of a Time Travelling Wannabe

I read an interesting article about a whacky Iranian scientist today who claims to have made a "time machine". When I saw the headline, my geeky sensibilities kicked right in and there I was imagining myself in medieval attire rescuing damsels, drinking mead and trying to explain away to the natives of the period why I was wearing this strange apparatus on my eyes (I'm pretty much blind without my glasses). I would have gone with something along the lines of "an enchanted window that allowed me to see the future", followed by tall tales of flying machines and a failing economy.

Upon reading the article I was convinced that the aforementioned whacky scientist was simply, well, whacky. That's immaterial here, though. My imagination had already gone off on its own, rendering any kind of "real world" work pretty much impossible to complete. So I decided to write a blog. Interaction and comments are encouraged here... (crickets chirp; tumbleweeds float across the screen; the sole member of the audience coughs).

Real scientists suggest that time traveling to the past would not be possible. In theory, one could only travel as far back as the time that the time machine was created, convoluted though that may sound. It does make sense, I guess, but years of losing myself in comics and other fantastic stories have allowed me to suspend disbelief adequately enough to imagine myself traveling back to a bygone era. I'm not thinking medieval times or any other such breeding ground for fantastic tales, however; no. I would go back to the recent past and kick my own ass.

I would go back to 1988, when I sat next to my first real crush in History class and be far less inept at making conversation with her. I would then shoot forward to 1994 and actually listen to my dad's advice. Upon doing that, I would have avoided eight soul destroying years in audio visual retail sales and, when I headed forward into the year 2000, I'd be making my acceptance speech as Director of the Best Film at the Oscars. I'd say something along the lines of "it's such an honor to be in the company of greats like Clint Eastwood and Martin Scorsese..."; meanwhile I'd be thinking, "hmmm... I wonder if my next blockbuster will also kick these old codgers into obscurity"(Villainous cackle).

Flash forward to 2013. I've divorced the supermodel and am begging Clint Eastwood to have a glance at my newest script; the sordid tale of a 36 year old has-been who did everything right until an unfortunate incident with (insert scandalous tale here: a pair of scissors, a sarong, a Haitian signature dish, an elephant and a pair of little people... etc). Perhaps this is where past experience, exactly as it is now, sans time travel, is something that should be held in higher regard than suspension of disbelief.

Said suspension must, inevitably, give way to reality. It is what we live through every day. We live through our failures, our triumphs and our moments of weakness in real time. Perhaps a time machine could alter our circumstances but it could not alter the fabric of who we are. Our stories as they stand now are equally as exciting and simultaneously disappointing as a Robert Altman movie.

The time travel fantasy soon faded into obscurity just as my vapid dreams of grandeur were crushed one by one. Real time taught me to think, to fight and to deal with challenges that confront me every day. I have failed, and many times at that. I am likely to continue to fail but the short lived time travel fantasy made me realise that everything that came before was a necessary evil. I think I am beginning to like the scientific fact that time travel is only possible from the point that the time machine actually exists.

I am eagerly looking forward.