Future Mark
[Somewhere in in the 1970's… cue creepy yet mysterious music]
Oooooeeeeeeeooooooo!
Mark… Mark!
What do you want?
Mark, it’s me. Well, actually, it’s you… you from the future.
Ooooooeeeeeeooooo!
You mean me. And please stop with that stupid music. It’s dopey.
Whatever.
Why are you wearing that white bed sheet? Does Mom know you put holes in it?
No, don’t be an idiot. This is my ghost costume. I’m here but I’m not really here. Get it?
I have to say, if you’re me in the future, just shoot me now. You’re a dweeb.
Look, I’m here to help.
If you’re here to help, then help me get this TV tuned. It’s a new episode of Gilligan’s Island. I tried adjusting the rabbit ear antenna and it barely comes in.
Did you try putting aluminum foil on the antenna?
Brilliant idea.
Actually, don’t bother. I know this one. It’s where Gilligan fights off a whole army of mutant ants. The professor gets bit and Gilligan has to save the day.
Do they get off the island?
Don’t be dumb. You know that isn’t going to happen.
I hate you.
Mark, I only have a few minutes and I need to give you some warnings.
Well, since you ruined my show, go ahead.
First, there will be a time when your brother tells you to go into a sleeping bag to find a pack of Chiclets. Don’t do it! Once you’re inside, he’s going to zip up the bag and then sit on your head. You’ll spend thousands of dollars in the future with a shrink, trying to get over your fear of tight spaces.
Finally, some useful information. Thanks.
Second, don’t try and shave the cat with Dad’s electric razor. It doesn’t turn out well.
Gotcha. Anything else?’
Yeah, forget about getting a degree in turf grass management. Go for political science. It’s much more practical.
If you say so.
And tomorrow as I remember, you’re supposed to go on a school field trip to the zoo. If a monkey starts throwing dark objects at you, don’t catch them. Just be sure to duck.
Is all this stuff really necessary? I mean, so far, you haven’t shared anything with me that’s mind-blowingly useful.
You’re right. I was saving the best for last. If you meet some girl named ‘Norma’ and she flirts with you, blow her off.
Why?
Because in the future, you two get married. She ends up hen-pecking you mercilessly and only let’s you out on Friday nights to play bingo with the in-laws.
So who should I pick?
Not Sylvia, she turns out to be a psychopath. Janice ends up syphoning the bank account then runs off with the circus. Darla becomes an alcoholic because you annoy her, and Angela just sits around the house watching soap operas with her hair up in curlers, crying endlessly.
How do you know all this?
Let’s just say I’ve been back to visit you many times — each time a little wiser, mind you — but it seems that when it comes to love, your mistakes are legion with us time travelers.
Are you saying I don’t get any smarter?
Not really. But we are all amazed at your creativity in finding some real whack job female-types.
So what should I do?
Maybe get a cat and call it a day.
Any particular kind?
No, any kind will do. Only one thing.
What’s that?
Don’t try to shave it with an electric razor.
