I am somewhere over the middle of America, roughly heading north and/or east. I had no idea America was so flat – at least not in a non-academic sense. Yes, dear reader, this entry is what you think it is: I am moving back east. However, unlike my ancestors whose work I am reversing, I am traveling by sub-sonic jet travel (which is not to say my ancestors came via super-sonic jets).
“Eric,” you’ll no doubt question, “why exactly are you flying east? And isn’t this flirting a bit with diary?”
Well, my dear reader, perhaps you’ll remember that a number of months ago I defiantly waded through the mire of seminary applications and eventually came to be accepted by Princeton Theological.
“Isn’t that the only application you successfully completed?” you most rudely interject!
Yes, it is true that in the end I only submitted one application; however, you must understand that application fees are quite steep these days, my pugnacious reader. The key point here, if I may finally state it, is that I am in the air heading to Princeton (via San Jose via Phoenix via Pittsburgh via Newark).
This morning began at 4:30 amidst the obnoxious vibrations of my phone atop my sister’s coffee table. After quickly taking a shower and loading my luggage into my sister’s car (with comparable speed), Cari whisked the two us off to San Jose’s airport where I was gouged for stowing luggage and then herded through security to my plane. Though my flight was clearly scheduled for 6:15, apparently SJC doesn’t allow planes that size (whatever size that may be) to depart until 6:30. Lame. I suppose the only part of today that has gone off exceptionally smoothly was my stay in Phoenix (assuming my luggage actually transferred), which only lasted for about thirty minutes.
This would be a fair time to note that the magnanimous Brandon K. Baker hails from Phoenix (or at least close enough). He is worthy of mention for multiple reasons: he was a fellow intern, is a fellow blogger, adventurer, and seminarian. I hope this is enough to pardon him of his intellectual inbreeding.
Needless to say, this has been quite a long day, but most experiments with time travel are. Yes, dear reader, the true purpose of this entry has not been to tell you about my journeys, but rather to unveil this next stage of my life as a time traveler.
“You’ve made some big claims before,” you will doubtlessly say – and I’d probably agree, “but this takes the cake! We could sort of stomach your claims about the Fountain of Youth because of your demythologizing it. We rolled our eyes at your tales about vampire, spiders, and prehistoric bird monsters, as we assumed mental-derangement. We even put up with your Santa bashing, but this is madness!”
Perhaps I am mad, but I assure you that I join the ranks of HG Wells, Doc Brown and Marty McFly, Donnie Darko, Dr. Samuel Becket, and the Terminator robot. For all of you remaining on the west coast, I will be experiencing time three hours ahead of you. Just think of all the scientific advancements I’ll be able to report back to you all! Perhaps we’ll have a viable green fuel source or flying cars or genetically-altered, pigmy elephants or maybe even a way of heating up bath towels for post-shower use! And guess what, I’ll be at the forefront of all these developments. If you’d like to look a couple of hours into your future, tune in here! I’ll do what I can to be a seer, omen, fortuneteller, or whatever you’d like to call it.
I’d keep writing, but I’m afraid I must get back to the future.