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Hot tub time machine
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Hot tub time machine I was driving home Sunday after working when I caught a broadcast of the Kasey Kasem Top 40 show, a rerun from May, 1988. The song playing on the radio was Bryan Adams, “The Heat of The Night.” Here I am, sitting at this stop light, surrounded by cars that talk to you through voice recordings, I-Phones and lap tops, so far from the actual, but back in that time, listening to that same Kasey Kasem show, which in 1988 was on Saturday mornings, washing my first car. You see, I had this big night planned. No girls, because we couldn’t get any back then. I was washing my car to hang out with my buds, play Pac Man, be lazy and really, contribute to nothing other than to being an adolescent. Oh the good ole times. I saw the movie ‘Hot Tub Time Machine.’ I liked it. It was interesting and mindless comedy for 90 minutes. But have you ever thought about ‘what if?’ What if there really was a time machine? What if I could really go back to that spring morning, washing my convertible, with Bryan Adams blaring off my Pioneer tape cassette player? What if? This isn’t a tale about doing it over, or making different life choices, because I think there are all always decisions or actions that we would take away or do over again. That goes without saying. But wouldn’t it be cool, like a dream or something, to be able to relive that part of your life again? To be able to hang out with your buddies, sneak out of your parents’ house for the first time, or toilet paper a girls house whom you had a crush on? In a second! I miss those times. I think as a youth you take them for granted, wanting and waiting for the time when you become an adult and all the freedom that comes with that. The problem is, when you become an adult with mortgages, marriage, and so forth, you long for the days again of Bryan Adams, Poison, and dodging the police for curfew patrols. I’m applying another coat of ArmorAll to my tires when my mom yells out to me through the open window. I had a phone call. It was my best friend, Eric. He called me using a phone with a spiral cord. As the pounding guitar from Bryan softens my light changes. It takes me a second to notice; perhaps the guy behind me was along for the ride too as he sat there patiently waiting. I wonder though as I’m coasting through the intersection. Do you think a Jacuzzi tub could double as a hot tub?  Shared wife -evergreenstatewife |
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