If you could be ANY age again for ONE DAY, what age would be be and why?
21 thoughts on “READER FRIDAY: Time Travel with us for ONE DAY.”
I’d like to be 90 for one full day. Because then when I come back to being 67, it won’t feel so bad. 🙂
A clever twist, Harvey. Good one.
22–I spent 12 years of night school getting my bachelors in business, only to be utterly bored out of my gourd and to later find out just how much difference there was in a 20 something body and a 40 something body. I wish I’d gone into Physical Therapy instead.
My sister is a PT. She’d done well, but the work does take its toll on the body. She’s ready to retire.
For me, it would be the summer of 1989, when I learned to ride a bicycle. It was a rusty white bike with a red seat and flat tyres. I went round in circles amongst the apple trees. Before the summer was out I was zipping down the road with the rest of the kids in our street. I think I’d like to re-live the joy at having mastered it on my own and the sense of freedom it gave me.
Beautiful imagery, Angie.
Well, I have a few different thoughts:
* To 1864 and ’68 to warn my great-great-great grandmother that the federalized Colorado volunteers are going to attack her band of Cheyennes at Sand Creek, and to warn her that Custer is going attack them again, four years later.
* To 1812 or so to warn the Creeks, including my family, not to trust Andrew Jackson about anything for any purpose.
*To 1958 to get my parents to go ahead and allow me to study with Mr. Paul Deaver, the principal pianist of the Phoenix Symphony, that I’d worked out the money part by doing his yard work, painting, and stuff.
*To 1959 to see The Home Run as it cracked off my bat and cleared the high center field fence.
*To weekends in 1957 and ’58 to see the cutest girl on the fountain staff fix me A&W root beer floats. Since 1963, they’ve called that girl Mrs. Porter. (That was 55 years ago.)
There are a few other times that cross my mind, but it would require six trips to see the Porter children, 14 grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren born.
And somewhere in there, I’d make trips to LaCasita for Mexican food, and the Mining Camp restaurant for beef ribs.
This is such a thought provoking & lovely summary, Jim. I feel like I’ve traveled in time with you. Congratulations on your long-standing marriage. Nothing says love like a root beer float.
Thank you.
I’d go back to tenth grade, living in Canada. Right after that I moved, so I would make sure I kept my friend’s email addresses, make a better connection with my younger cousin–we were good but not as good as we are now, because she thought she had to hide the fact she was/is obsessed with broadway–somehow convince my parents to let me take drama again that year, or if not at least gym class again. I’d also try to find a way to not take French because I learned absolutely nothing that year. And I’d probably get in contact with other people I liked but didn’t become friends with. Plus that was the most painless year out of my schooling, no trying to fight off special ed, no trying to convince the world that yes, I am smart and yes, I can do a full load of classes without problems. And I’d remind myself to get that permission form filled out to go the Vimy ridge demonstration, which was the only run-in with special ed.
That’s a lot to do in one day, AZ. I hope you allowed time for a root beer float. Apparently that’s a real game changer.
16–Got my driver’s license, Jr in HS, fell in love with my future husband. We’ll celebrate 48 years of marriage this month. Thanks for sending me back to the good ole days.
That’s beautiful. Congratulations, JQ. Have a good weekend.
I’d like to fast forward to my 200th birthday. If I could make it through that day, I’d come back to the present with some great tales of what the world looked like.
Barring that, I’d like to be about 8 months older than I am now, specifically move to the day following next year’s Super Bowl, note the winner and the score (along with the scores after each quarter), then come back and clean up on bets, setting myself up for life.
A practical & well-motivated man. Gotta love it.
I would go back to 1963 when I was 18. I would whisper in my younger ear, “Be yourself. You are good enough, maybe better. Oh, and ask Rosemary to the prom, she actually wants to go with you.”
Ha! You’re a charmer, Brian.
SOUNDS like a simple question, but…
Is this go to that younger age, but stay in today (like an inverted version of Tom Hanks “Big” or Jamie Lee Curtis in “Freaky Friday”)?
Or is it go back to the time when you were that younger age (say10 in the late 1960’s)?
In either case would you still know then as a younger you what the grizzled you knows now?
The answer(s) to the question(s):
• Today? I’d go back to being in my early twenties and ace exams (except calculus, of course)
• Back when? 18, and decide to go to UNC instead of GA Tech (calculus again – see a pattern here?)
• Experience? Well, that would be the point, wouldn’t it?
And would the next day, return trip be different because of your day trip?
But it’ss really kind of moot since I’m pretty happy still being 17, despite wondering how come there’s this old coot looking out at me from the mirror… (and that’s the REAL question~ who is he and what did he do with body?).
Sounds like you gave this some thought. Start working on that time machine and your flux capacitor, George.
This is a great question and there are so many different times but I think I’d like to go back to when I was 19 or 20 and change a few things. I’m not sure I could do it in one day but if I could have gained insight to what was to come, I could have avoided a lot of heartache.
That’s intriguing. Thanks for playing, Rebecca.
I think I’d go back to age twenty, and kick my butt to take my writing seriously.
I’d like to be 90 for one full day. Because then when I come back to being 67, it won’t feel so bad. 🙂
A clever twist, Harvey. Good one.
22–I spent 12 years of night school getting my bachelors in business, only to be utterly bored out of my gourd and to later find out just how much difference there was in a 20 something body and a 40 something body. I wish I’d gone into Physical Therapy instead.
My sister is a PT. She’d done well, but the work does take its toll on the body. She’s ready to retire.
For me, it would be the summer of 1989, when I learned to ride a bicycle. It was a rusty white bike with a red seat and flat tyres. I went round in circles amongst the apple trees. Before the summer was out I was zipping down the road with the rest of the kids in our street. I think I’d like to re-live the joy at having mastered it on my own and the sense of freedom it gave me.
Beautiful imagery, Angie.
Well, I have a few different thoughts:
* To 1864 and ’68 to warn my great-great-great grandmother that the federalized Colorado volunteers are going to attack her band of Cheyennes at Sand Creek, and to warn her that Custer is going attack them again, four years later.
* To 1812 or so to warn the Creeks, including my family, not to trust Andrew Jackson about anything for any purpose.
*To 1958 to get my parents to go ahead and allow me to study with Mr. Paul Deaver, the principal pianist of the Phoenix Symphony, that I’d worked out the money part by doing his yard work, painting, and stuff.
*To 1959 to see The Home Run as it cracked off my bat and cleared the high center field fence.
*To weekends in 1957 and ’58 to see the cutest girl on the fountain staff fix me A&W root beer floats. Since 1963, they’ve called that girl Mrs. Porter. (That was 55 years ago.)
There are a few other times that cross my mind, but it would require six trips to see the Porter children, 14 grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren born.
And somewhere in there, I’d make trips to LaCasita for Mexican food, and the Mining Camp restaurant for beef ribs.
This is such a thought provoking & lovely summary, Jim. I feel like I’ve traveled in time with you. Congratulations on your long-standing marriage. Nothing says love like a root beer float.
Thank you.
I’d go back to tenth grade, living in Canada. Right after that I moved, so I would make sure I kept my friend’s email addresses, make a better connection with my younger cousin–we were good but not as good as we are now, because she thought she had to hide the fact she was/is obsessed with broadway–somehow convince my parents to let me take drama again that year, or if not at least gym class again. I’d also try to find a way to not take French because I learned absolutely nothing that year. And I’d probably get in contact with other people I liked but didn’t become friends with. Plus that was the most painless year out of my schooling, no trying to fight off special ed, no trying to convince the world that yes, I am smart and yes, I can do a full load of classes without problems. And I’d remind myself to get that permission form filled out to go the Vimy ridge demonstration, which was the only run-in with special ed.
That’s a lot to do in one day, AZ. I hope you allowed time for a root beer float. Apparently that’s a real game changer.
16–Got my driver’s license, Jr in HS, fell in love with my future husband. We’ll celebrate 48 years of marriage this month. Thanks for sending me back to the good ole days.
That’s beautiful. Congratulations, JQ. Have a good weekend.
I’d like to fast forward to my 200th birthday. If I could make it through that day, I’d come back to the present with some great tales of what the world looked like.
Barring that, I’d like to be about 8 months older than I am now, specifically move to the day following next year’s Super Bowl, note the winner and the score (along with the scores after each quarter), then come back and clean up on bets, setting myself up for life.
A practical & well-motivated man. Gotta love it.
I would go back to 1963 when I was 18. I would whisper in my younger ear, “Be yourself. You are good enough, maybe better. Oh, and ask Rosemary to the prom, she actually wants to go with you.”
Ha! You’re a charmer, Brian.
SOUNDS like a simple question, but…
Is this go to that younger age, but stay in today (like an inverted version of Tom Hanks “Big” or Jamie Lee Curtis in “Freaky Friday”)?
Or is it go back to the time when you were that younger age (say10 in the late 1960’s)?
In either case would you still know then as a younger you what the grizzled you knows now?
The answer(s) to the question(s):
• Today? I’d go back to being in my early twenties and ace exams (except calculus, of course)
• Back when? 18, and decide to go to UNC instead of GA Tech (calculus again – see a pattern here?)
• Experience? Well, that would be the point, wouldn’t it?
And would the next day, return trip be different because of your day trip?
But it’ss really kind of moot since I’m pretty happy still being 17, despite wondering how come there’s this old coot looking out at me from the mirror… (and that’s the REAL question~ who is he and what did he do with body?).
Sounds like you gave this some thought. Start working on that time machine and your flux capacitor, George.
This is a great question and there are so many different times but I think I’d like to go back to when I was 19 or 20 and change a few things. I’m not sure I could do it in one day but if I could have gained insight to what was to come, I could have avoided a lot of heartache.
That’s intriguing. Thanks for playing, Rebecca.
I think I’d go back to age twenty, and kick my butt to take my writing seriously.