God Hates Time Travel
Time travel is a one-way ticket to misery.
Without a doubt, it would be awesome to be able to visit the past — not to witness historic events (that’s what movies are for) but to alter my own history.
Personally, I’d not only give my left nut, I’d give society’s collective left nut for the chance to hop in a DeLorean and jet off to my childhood — lending some of that hindsight 20/20 vision to Lil’ Robert and ensuring that all the mistakes that haunt my past would never be made.
On the other hand, science fiction authors and hack screenwriters have shown us time and time again that messing with time travel never ends well.
Judging from what fiction has taught us (and we should always listen to what fiction teaches us), God is on a constant crusade to punish time travelers with bad karma.
If the day comes where I somehow invent time travel — well … let’s face it, I’m never going to invent time travel. I’m neither scientifically inclined nor highly motivated.
If the day comes where I stumble upon the chance to steal some scientist’s time machine and I hop back to the seventh grade and manage to impart all my life lessons and words of warning to the younger version of me — helping him to gain the self-confidence I lacked at that age and win that date with the girl of our dreams (pesky run-on sentence … hold on, I need to catch my breath … okay, all better) — If I did all that, God would probably hit him/me with a train during his/my date — a date that I never experienced or ever will because when past-me dies, present-me ceases to be as well. So sayth the book of Frequency.
Thus, God doesn’t like time travelers.
It’s not like I would go back in time to hurt anybody. I don’t want to exact revenge on my playground foes (not yet, at least) and I don’t have any real desire to cheat at the stock market (authorities would get too suspicious if seventh grade-me started to make a killing on Wall Street and everybody knows the real way to make money off time travel is to bet on sports like in Back to the Future Part II).
No, I just want to make a better life for myself. Isn’t that the American dream?
Technology is constantly catching up with the American Dream. 200 years ago, immigrants would travel in boats to America, the so-called “New World,” for a fresh beginning.
Today, Americans fly in planes to Canada for a fresh beginning and free healthcare.
Tomorrow, I’ll use a time machine to be an immigrant of the future.
I want to travel to the “Old World” for a fresh middle.
I would tell Lil’ Robert not to let his Mom bye his clothing – because Looney Toons characters most assuredly do not belong on the shirts of middle school boys.
I would tell him that he should ask out the girl he’s been crushing on because a year later, she’ll be forever out of his reach.
I’d tell him to stop wearing such tight jeans because very soon he’s going to experience a very embarrassing moment that involves his pants ripping.
On a similar note, I’d tell him that he should always wear clean underwear.
I’d tell him that soda pop is fun and tasty, but if you drink too much of it, you are going to have to pause and catch your breath during run-on sentences in the future.
I’d warn him against getting into a fight with his best friend over something trivial because he won’t want to spend the next four years not hanging out with him.
I’d tell him not to waste so much money on trading cards and action figures because in five years time, he’ll be tired of them and will throw them away.
I’d tell him that despite what he thinks, the way to win girls’ hearts isn’t through quoting “Weird Al” Yankovic lyrics or showing her how he can fit a whole apple into his mouth.
I’d tell him not to listen too much to what that jerk who sits behind him in math class says. In six years, he’ll be rotting in jail. I’d also warn him against being such a jerk himself. Nobody wants to be remembered as the class bully.
I’d tell him to check our priorities. Be nicer to the classmates who will remain friends with you for the rest of your life and don’t bother trying to win the approval of the jerks who are just using you for the then and there.
I know that I can never go back in time and do all these things.
God would kill me like he killed Bruce Willis in 12 Monkeys.
Instead, I’ll have to settle for the next best thing to time travel: becoming a father and living vicariously through the lives of my future kids.
Life is not about regrets, even though everyone has them; it’s about learning lessons and not repeating the same mistakes. You have learned a lot of great lessons and now have great advice to offer. The hard part is getting a person to listen and not make the same mistake themselves. Someone could have advised you against everything you listed above, but would you have listened? Our parents probably will tell you that they knew all of those were bad ideas, but we never listened to their advice. It sounds like you’ve got a lot of good lessons learned under your belt. If it hadn’t been those mistakes, it would have been others; thank God for small mercies.