Are You in the Past, or the Future — or am I?
by Donald K. Sanders
I’ve been thinking again. Like all the other times that I found myself thinking, I have no control over when or what I will be thinking about. I have now thought myself into a corner, so I’m hoping that I can think long enough to get myself out of it.
Consider this. I am in the future and you are in the past. Or is it… you are in the future and I am in the past. I’ll have to think about that too when I get the chance.
Anyway, to clarify my point, by the time you read this column, the point in time and space where I am at this moment is in the past where you are at the point in space and time where you are as you read it.
So now you’re thinking too. You’re thinking, “What the Hell is he talking about?” OK, stick with me and don’t let your mind wander. I know it can be tough sometimes if you have ABM. (Average Brain Mass)
I am writing this very sentence on May 29. You, in turn, cannot read this sentence until at least June 5 or maybe even June 12. That, by my definition, puts me in your future and you in my future too.
Wait a minute. Let me think some more.
Anyway, I am in your past and you are in my future when you read these words of wisdom. Understand? So I am at one end of the spectrum of time and space and you are at the other. As I continue to think, I find that there is an “in between.”
Debra DeAngelo, the editor of all of these words of wit, is an “inbetweener” because when she reads this she is not as far in the future as you are when you read this. Got it? I’m not losing you, am I?
Nevermind. Stay with me for just few more sentences, because it’s really going to get exciting now. I have a little experiment in mind that might change everything that you know to be true about space and time.
Sometime in the near future, when I send this column to Debra, I am going to walk over to Debra’s office, which is well over a block away from my house, to see if Debra can even see me in her past.
I’m thinking that she won’t know that I wrote this in the past unless she takes the time to think about it, and of course, we all know that editors aren’t really great thinkers. They’re “inbetweeners.” Get it? LOL. (LOL means “laugh out loud” in hologram chat, talkie thingy. You know what I mean, right?)
Anyway, I wish my wife was here to proofread this column for me. She could tell me if I am breaking down this information so that you, a person with ABM can easily understand and grasp the meaning of what I’m trying to say to you.
She is on sabbatical. Tomorrow (last Sunday or the other Sunday, to you) she will be sharing Mass with Pope what’s his name in the Vatican Square. Now you can see why I’m doing all of this thinking. When she’s around, I don’t do it so much because she says, “STOP, wait a minute, what the heck are you doing.”
Like, she’ll read my column and say, “You’re not going to send this to Debra, are you?” (I always send them in anyway.) You have to understand that she has ABM (Average Brain Mass) too. In spite of her ABM, I absolutely adore her. She is a ray of sunshine and she radiates me.
While she’s away on her stinking sabbatical there is no warmth or reverence in my life. If she were here right now, she would want me to reconsider sending this column to the inbetweener because my mind is on a level with Einstein, Plato and Socrates while her mind is on a level with Bette Midler and Betty White.
I don’t know where the heck your mind is and I don’t even want to know either. It’s not good for me to mix the past with the future because there’s no clear path for me to follow.
Sometime in the future, I’ll let you know the results of my experiments concerning time and space.