The past isn't dead, it isn't even past

Jim felt strange as he walked up to the two-story brick storefront. Is this really it? But he checked the business card again and this was it. 504 Qak st. Suite 112, it was the kind of building you could pass by a hundred times and not notice. Am I really going to do this? He said to himself, going over, once more how to go about this whole business. Still he would be a fool to not a least try. To see if the rumors were true. The company called itself 'Historical Travel,' and on its website it said that it 'Provided authentic, guided tours of some of history's most important places. In the U.S. and abroad.' However what Jim had heard from his colleagues at the University and some people online was that they did far more than that. That the 'Historical' part was, in fact, literal that they actually offered tours to the past. They didn't call it 'Time travel,' he heard, they called it 'going back.' Jim had also heard that they didn't take just anyone back, they screened individuals very carefully, and if they didn't like even the slightest thing about you, all bets were off. They would simply offer you ordinary trips to historical sites. The interview would make or break weather they took you, and any mention of the word 'time travel' would be a deal breaker. They didn't want tourist was the general refrain. Jim opened the glass door and walked into the small building, on a black board with white letters 112 was listed without a name. The woman Jim had spoken to on the phone had been cordial enough, but he wondered how it would go, what would he say. He felt he had a pretty decent case. He had been studying 19th century slums for a hefty portion of his life, made it the basis of his dissertation and he had heard they offered a great tour of the five points. Jim ascended the steps slowly, pondering what it would actually be like, maybe its like stepping into an old photograph. He found 112 fairly easily, at the end of a long hall. The building itself was quite old, the 20's he reckoned and had the musty smell of an attic. Fitting I suppose, Jim thought as he entered the office. It was a small white room was devoid of any pictures of decorations on the walls. It could easily have passed for any number of doctor's of lawyer's offices, he thought. The woman at the desk was looking at the laptop as he entered. Jim checked his watch, 1:25 five minutes early, good. 'I have an appointment with Ben.' Jim said, as he approached the desk. 'Ok.' She said and walked into a back room. After a moment she returned, 'He say's he will be with you shortly.' Jim took a seat. There was no one else waiting, and the place seemed strangely quiet, which seemed odd. After all, Jim had heard that this was the business that had made well over a billion in the past year. Yet here he was, the only sound a ceiling fan moving slowly. There was a table in the center of the room with a few magazine on it but Jim didn't bother. He needed to stay focused, to think about what to say. After a little while a big man with a Hawaiian shirt emerged from the back, 'Jim Anderson?' He said, even though there was no once else waiting. Jim arose and walked over to shake his hand, 'Ben Johnson,' He said enthusiastically,with a strong grip. 'Right this way.' Ben said as he released his hand. 'I've heard alot about you Jim.' Ben walked down a little way through another door to a small room with a desk and two chairs. 'Pardon our appearance, I know this office doesn't look like much but we use it to keep costs down. Take a seat.' Ben motioned. Ben sat down behind the large office chair, Jim sat down. 'You know by just having this meeting your close than you realize.' 'Oh.' Jim said, 'Closer to what?' Ben laughed,'I know what they told you about our screening process but that's mainly to sift through the idiots, the 'gawkers' I call them. But let's get down to it Jim, why do you want to go back? Jim hesitated for a second. He hadn't thought it would be so direct. 'Well I've been studying 19th century slums for a while now and.. 'I know that Jim,' Ben interrupted, 'I told you, I've gone over your background extensively, but why go back? Why not go forward?' Jim thought for a moment, 'I want to see what is was like.. 'You want to see what it was like? You want to see streets of shit, and people looking for any chance to slit your throat or rob you? Jim was silent for a moment. 'Jim I don't say this to put you down but it's happened to us quite a lot. I interview people and they say the right thing, they even have the right attitude but when the time comes, they can't deal with it. They treat it like an amusement park, like Disneyland. I had one guy who was just like that, seemed nice, intelligent. The first night in the point's he goes off from the group and get's himself mugged and nearly killed going down the wrong alley. I don't need that, and the company doesn't need that. So I'll ask you again, why do you want to go back? Jim answered quickly this time, 'I just want to see it, the past, I want to touch it to experience it, I'm sick of reading about it.' Ben grinned broadly. 'That's my kind of answer. Let me tell you up front it isn't cheap, and we have a few guidelines we have to go over.' 'Such as?' Jim inquired. 'Well first of all we need to see how you will handle going back. Usually we don't send you too far, the 90's is a good starting point to see how you handle it.' 'Ok.' Jim said. 'Then if our tour operators feel you are speaking our language we will take you back a little further the 50's most likely. I love the 50's Elvis, greasers, rock 'n roll, anyways after that if we feel comfortable we can take you to where you want to go.' Jim said nothing taking it all in. 'And it's real right?' Ben laughed again. He opened the door of his desk and took out a can of vegetables. It was old, or it looked old, except that it had no rust. 'I bought that this morning in 1952.' Jim looked at it, this is actually happening. 'Ok our other guidelines are as follows, only groups of 5 at a time can go back. Period attire must be worn at all times when going back and all things from the future are strictly prohibited. Smart phones, Ipads, laptops, any kind of fancy watch, velcro, anything that could be worn that would suggest to the people of that time that you are out of place. This includes money. As for money you will be alotted a small sum of currency from the period you will be travelling to if you wish to buy a few things. This may not sound like a big deal but it is. I was almost arrested in the 80's for using a newer twenty in a corner store. They all thought it was fake. Also, aside from a few words here and there interaction with people from the past is to be as limited as possible. I know it sounds harsh but it's the only way we've found to keep people from attempting to change things. No killing Hilter, no killing John Wilkes Booth, no altering of historical events. Do you think you can handle that Mr. Anderson.' Jim nodded. 'Alright. Be here tommorow morning, 8AM sharp. You got a ticket to 1992.' 'Thank you.' Jim said rising. 'Don't thank me yet.' Ben said. 'Its a wild trip going back.'

I don't care for small children. Pretty much between the ages of 0-10. Doesn't do it for me. I don't understand the appeal. Perhaps I can't get down to that level. Maybe I don't recall being a youth. Although I remember having this feeling as a child myself. Not enjoying the company of my younger peers. In some ways it wouldn't be a problem accpet I feel that society and a large portion of the population in general feels that you have to like them. That there is something wrong with you if you don't pull an 'aw shucks,' each time you see a baby. Indeed that you have to procreate. This pressure upon us as human beings to reproduce. Quite frankly a large portion of the population probably shouldn't. Why should everyone have kids? Why should people not particularly endowed with good child rearing skills raise children? Should someone with an intense fear of fire become a firefighter? Should someone with a paralyzing fear of heights wash the windows in a skyscraper? Maybe we should think of these things before we jump right in. I was reading a column in 'Dear Abbey' where a woman was talking about someone she knew who was having a baby. This individual in question was into partying and in general seems not very responsible and the woman didn't want to give her a 'congratulations'. Not that being rude is the answer but I feel this is something not asked that often. Maybe we as people should evaluate these kinds of things before we reproduce. And maybe not everyone shares your bountiful love for your offspring.