There is a barista at the Starbucks down the street from my house who looks exactly like Keanu Reeves. Specifically, Keanu Reeves in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I’m serious. Ted Theodore Logan serving me coffee. Everytime he says, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” I want to say, “Be excellent to each other.”
I know at least a handful of my readers occupy the same geographic region as I do. Tell me you haven’t noticed. Tell me you don’t look around for Rufus and his telephone booth time machine every time you go in there. It’s all I can do not to ask how Wyld Stallyns is coming along.
If I find that telephone booth, I’m hopping in. Where shall we dial ourselves to? As tempting as it might be to go back and visit my relatives in their younger years, I’ve seen Back to the Future and I know what kind of trouble that leads to. The consequences could be disastrous.
This may seem silly and frivolous, but back in the 50s, Benny Goodman played Disneyland once. I wouldn’t mind donning a pair of saddle shoes and going back to hear Mr. Goodman belt out Sing, Sing, Sing, and maybe take a tour around the park. Up for a concert?
We could jet forward some. Check out our society in 100 years. I haven’t seen too many time travel movies that leave me terribly optimistic about our future, but I wouldn’t mind a hoverboard, that’s for sure.
My husband says he’d like to go back to Central America in the 1300s and hang out with the Mayans. Maybe teach them to make things like gun powder to even up the score a bit in the coming years. That’s probably a little more admirable than my wanting to catch as jazz band.
If I get the opportunity, I’m going anyway. I’ll send you a postcard from 1955. . . or a venti iced mocha. Whatever.
Party on, dudes.