Pop Culture Time Machine

There’s no hot tub in this time machine.

Mikey and Mattie spoke once about what they would do if they had a time machine, what they would travel back in time to see or do. I think Matt said he’d witness something boring and historical and Michael decided to travel back and buy up all the Apple stock or something.

Well, my time machine is a little different. I’d be down for getting rich, and it wouldn’t be so terrible to see history in the making, but I want to bear witness to another kind of history being made—pop cultural history.

Like, what kind of music fan would I be if I failed to use my time machine to go see the Beatles play in their prime. Seeing them on Ed Sullivan would be cool--and little Sally Draper certainly seemed excited when dad Don got her tickets to their Shea Stadium show--but cooler still would be seeing them play in a tiny club in Liverpool, or some other English city that I’d have to look up on a map, before they hit it big. It helps that I love early Beatles as much as the late, more experimental Beatles—I wouldn’t have to fight the crowds.

I’ve long said that if I had a time machine, I would go back in time and steal Courteney Cox’s famous early role in Bruce Springsteen’s video for Dancing In The Dark. I mean, how cool would that be? I can dance like it’s 1984, even if I wasn’t quite born yet. And seeing the Boss play one of my favorites long before he started sounding and acting like a Baptist preacher onstage? Priceless.

What else shall I do with this newfound ability to bend time to my will? I’ve written before about the painful reality of TV shows cancelled before their time. Maybe I could go back and spread the word—“Watch Firefly!” I’d shout from the streets. “Check out Freaks & Geeks,” I’d cry. “Veronica Mars rules!” People would listen to me, you see, because I’m from The Future. After fixing these egregious crimes against culture, I’d turn my attention to other television snafus—the repeated renewal of shows that really should have already died. Scrubs and Gilmore Girls both would have been slashed from the air before their abysmal final seasons. Seventh Heaven need never have existed.

After ensuring the future of TV was a bright one, I’d move on to movies. What would it be like to be in the audience of one of the very first films ever? Even if it did mean you had to leap from your seat to the floor so the train didn’t hit you. I could see each and every classic movie when it was released, on the big screen, among others unspoiled by the internet and cynicism. I could discover along with the rest of the audience just who Luke’s father actually was or what Rosebud did, in fact, represent.

There are so many choices, so I hope my time machine is reusable. If not, I may have to go to the Apple stock route. After all, for the money that would net me today, I could buy myself a role in a Springsteen video. And still have money leftover to order a pizza. Sounds like a steal to me.