If I Could Save a Time Machine In a Bottle

Photo credit: Victor Habbick via FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Time travel. The concept has titillated the minds of scientists and science fiction novelists for centuries. Assuming time travel were possible (some claim so) and that there would be no effect on the present or future from outside interference (time space continuum and all that), what would I do if there were a time machine at my disposal?

Firstly, I’m not sure I’d enjoy time travel. I hate to fly, and I have vertigo. Traveling through time is probably similar to traveling into space, a lot of weightlessness and that disgusting feeling you get when your insides are floating around inside of you. It probably involves lots of swirling colored lights and maybe feels like riding Space Mountain on LSD.

Maybe you travel at ten times the speed of light through a tunnel made of LED lights, lightening, and atomic particles. You probably feel like you’ve  been on an airplane for fifty-two thousand hours. Who knows? Scientists probably. But I’m not one.   

So what would I do if I did have the luxury of such said machine, anyway?

First off, I’d like to see a dinosaur in real life. I’ve been to Universal Studios and all, but I want to know what it’s like for real. I realize the danger in this venture. I don’t want to become food for a hungry predator or stomped on by a lumbering brachiosaurus or suffocated in a pile of triceratops poop.

 The trip would take careful planning, and I would probably require a crew of at least ten or so. If science fiction has taught me anything it’s that many of them won’t survive the first journey, and I’d like to have a few left for my next excursion.

After the dinosaurs, I’d probably take a swing through Egypt circa 2630 – 2250 B.C. I’d set up a beach chair in the sand and watch pyramid construction for a while. Next I’d go a bit further in time to take a photo with the Sphinx before its nose wore off.

I would then skip ahead a few years and tell Socrates not to drink the Kool Aid. I’d visit Leonardo and tell him keep up the good work. And I’d like to give Michelangelo a high-five. Maybe we can share a cannoli. Maybe I’d pay a visit to the Bard. But I would pass on the plague. I’d also like to see some real life pirates, even though I’m sure they aren’t as hot or as cool as movie pirates. I’d like to see the debut of Don Giovanni and hear Fur Elise played live for the first time.

I’d then skip ahead a bunch to the beginning of the 1970’s, at the end of which I was born. I’d spend a ton of time in that decade, going to concerts, hanging backstage with my favorite bands. I’d follow Monty Python’s Flying Circus for a while.

I’d probably pop in on myself as a kid a few times. “I’m you from the future!” I’d say. Then the kid me would be like, “Whatever, freak.” But it would be true. So sadly true.

My last adventure as a time traveler would be to convince my parents that I’m a distant relative so that I could whisk the seven/eight year old me to Wembley circa July 1985 & July 1986 to experience two of the greatest shows in rock history.

What would you do if you had a time machine at your disposal?