Dear
October, 1972 Rick,
It’s
me – October 2018 Rick…you! I know you
don’t believe me, but please read on a little and I’ll try to convince you.
You’re
alive and well here in ’18. That’s the good news. While we haven’t (and never
will) achieved a means to transport living creatures back into time, we have
developed a way to send inanimate objects, like this letter. So, this is me…you…giving
you…me…a heads-up on what the future holds in store.
No.
This isn’t Chris Magouyrk pulling a gag on you. Would he know that back in 1958
you got in trouble while staying at your babysitter’s (Mrs. Sullivan) house
when you threw that stick up in the air and her own grandson was dumb enough to
just stand there and watch it until it came down and stuck into his eye? Would he know that, in 1965, you got in
trouble again for beating up that kid who pushed the swing that hit you in the
mouth and chipped your front tooth?
Would he know you haven’t been able to get into your locker for the last
two years, because you forgot the combination, and you have a Liv Lindeland
Playboy poster taped up in there and three bottles of Bali Hai wine? OK. Maybe he knows that one. But how could he possibly know about that other
stuff? How could anybody … but you?
Did
you ever tell anybody you had a crush on Leslie Gore?
Convinced?
So,
if you’re still with me, let me give you some advice.
With
Halloween coming up, I’d like to have gone back to 1969 to advise you to not
get in Hester Benedict’s Scout, and thereby avoid your unfortunate
participation in the Great Tommy’s Kingburger Egging Incident – but I don’t
want to take a chance on you forgetting about this next one. Next Halloween
(1974), when that cop stops you guys near Sulphur Rock and you jump out of the
car to “discuss” it with him – leave the part out about his mother. That’s
unnecessary. The cold barrel of a .357 pressed against your temple is not a
good feeling, and the clicking of the hammer being pulled back may cause you to
soil your jeans a little. Oh, you’ll still get married the next day; and I can
report that, miraculously, you’ve still got her to control you 1n 2018.
Don’t
worry about that “IceCapades” thing last year. It’ll make a pretty good story
someday, and the whole “Permanent Records” deal turns out to have been a scam
to keep kids in line.
Learn
to play the piano. And maybe the saxophone. And when Becky buys you that guitar
in a few years because you’re going stir crazy since your band broke up, take
some time to practice with it. It’s ridiculous that 43 years after you got it
you still can’t make a B chord and you cheat on your Gs.
Pay
attention in Jane & Dan Fagg’s history classes at Arkansas College next
year. You’ve just lived through the beginning of a pretty big political scandal
in Washington DC. By next year, they’ll be trying to teach you about it. I know
you don’t care about political stuff, but humor me. It’ll come in handy in
2018, when every day seems to bring a scandal that dwarfs that one by
comparison.
All
that silver you’ll collect in the late 1970’s: sell it on January 18, 1980. Buy
stock in WalMart with the money.
When
the March, 1990 Playboy Magazine comes out, buy several copies and keep them in
a safe place.
Realize
that the social changes you see and hear about daily are not written in stone.
In 2008, you’ll think it’s a new world, and all of that hippie stuff really
meant something. Then, in 2016, you’ll
see that new world crash and burn, leaving what you thought were bygone days
standing in the ashes, with Confederate Flags flying above neon rooftops. A
billionaire trust fund baby will be elected President, just two days after an
audio tape of him saying this is plastered all over the news: “Yeah, that’s
her. With the gold. I better use some Tic Tacs just in case I start kissing
her. You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing
them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star,
they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do
anything.”
Later,
after he’s in office, he’ll mock a physically disabled reporter on national TV.
He’ll later deny that he did it, and even though his supporters saw him do it,
they’ll believe his denial. He tells his supporters to not believe what they
see and hear. And there’s lots of them!
Many consider themselves to be the “Holier than thou” religious types, despite
his long and storied history of debauchery.
That magazine I told you to get? That’s him on the cover! He’s been married three times. He left each
of his first two wives for the next one, who was a Russian adult model. Nude
pictures of her all over this thing we call the Internet, for everybody,
world-wide to see. Oh, by the way, if you have any money left by the end of
1980, buy stock in a company called “Apple” (no, not the Beatles’ label.) It won’t take much.
This
guy says and does crazy stuff, like the above, daily. Two years into his term he appointed a guy to
the Supreme Court who, back when he was your age, used to consume high volumes
of beer through a tube stuck up his butt! Crazy, right? The guy was accused of accosting women, but
the Congress just rubber-stamped his approval after a hilarious, televised,
sham of an “investigation.”
The
President is real tight with the “Presidents” of Russia and North Korea. Some of his biggest fans are leaders of the
KKK and other neo-Nazi extremist groups. They love him! And so will many of
those guys you’re playing music with and even more out there on the parking lot
at Kingburger, getting high in their cars, right at this very minute.
This
week, one of his big fans got busted for sending mail bombs to people the
President doesn’t like – because they don’t like him. And, get this: the President blamed the guys
actions on the media! Is that a hoot?
So,
what I’m trying to tell you, Rick, is don’t think you have ruined your life
through your past or future antics. No
stunt you could ever conceive, no matter how wild & crazy, could possibly
disqualify you for the job of President of the United States. And if you’re eligible for that job, how
could you not do anything else you’d ever want to do?
BTW,
you are not going to be your class Valedictorian … especially after only
attending school about 1/3 of the time … so you won’t be able to use this
letter as an inspirational speech to your classmates.
Party
on. The future is wide open.
Your
friend,
aka
You,Rick
(c) Rick Baber, 2018
