On the occasion of my birthday, I’d like to share with you this fascinating fact: I have perfected time travel!
Well, okay, not totally perfected it. I’ve tried it, and after some minor tweaks, was able to travel to the year 2012 — exactly one year ago — and have a conversation with myself. Yes, I know about the whole disturbing the whole space-time continuum yadda-yadda, but seriously, who cares about that stuff when you can actually travel through time?
I was able to record my conversation and make a transcript of it. Only because posting an audio recording of it would sound like I was just talking to myself. I mean, I was, but, oh never mind. Here’s my conversation:
2012 Me: Hi, are you a registered voter in the 13th district?
Me: Um, yeah.
2012 Me: My name is Elson Trinidad, and I’m running for city council. Can you sign my petition so I can appear on the March 2013 ballot?
Me: Well, you see, I already did.
2012 Me: Wait a minute, you’re…me!
Me: Yes, yes I am. I come to you from the future. From the year 2013.
2012 Me: I think I’m going to faint.
Me: No, you never faint. And even if you’re squatting or sitting on the ground for an extended period of time and suddenly get up, you might get disoriented for a couple seconds, but you always manage to keep from fainting.
2012 Me: You know me too well.
Me: No duh.
2012 Me: So, did I win?
Me: Win what?
2012 Me: The city council election.
2012 Me: I…take that as a no. Okay, so how many votes did I get? Just curious!
Me: Uhhh…none. You didn’t make the ballot.
2012 Me: WHAT?!?
Me: You didn’t get enough signatures.
2012 Me: You mean…I…didn’t…you mean…
Me: I’m sorry, dude.
2012 Me: Damn, that sucks. Tell me more about the future. Do you have make more money than me? Do you have a girlfriend? Did you finally release that album? Did the Dodgers win the World Series?
Me: [Taking deep breath] No, no, no and…no.
2012 Me: You suck!
Me: No, you suck!
2012 Me: But I’m you so…
Me: You’re right, you can never win an argument against yourself.
2012 Me: So how did you take it?
Me: Well, I was bummed, obviously, but I actually took it pretty well.
2012 Me: How did you deal with it?
Me: How would you deal with it?
2012 Me: Well, I’d probably leave town for a while.
Me: And that’s exactly what I did.
2012 Me: So where did you go?
Me: Where would you go?
2012 Me: Oh, definitely Austral–
Me: You definitely don’t have the money to go to Australia again. Or any place that involves a plane ticket, for that matter.
2012 Me: Man, you’re starting to depress me. Okay then, I would probably take a road trip to some place in California that I’ve never been to yet. Maybe Eureka or Owens Valley or Mt. Shasta or something.
Me: Yeah one or two of those. I ain’t gonna tell you which. Life is full of surprises, and I don’t wanna spoil it for you. But you’ll have a life-changing experience, and your perception of community will change.
2012 Me: What about East Hollywood?
Me: East Hollywood doesn’t need you anymore. All the work you’ve done over the years is pretty much forgotten now. You don’t matter anymore. But your idea of “community” is a much bigger place now. It’s time to move on.
2012 Me: So I’m going to move?
Me: Your address remains the same, but your heart finds a home elsewhere. And the natural world offers many clues.
2012 Me: Okay, you’re being really vague dude.
Me: Dude, did you just call yourself dude?
2012 Me: …Very funny. So, can you tell me any good thing that happens to me, er, you, er, us?
Me: You’ll make some really great new friends over the next year. And I’m 10 pounds lighter than you.
2012 Me: How did you…
Me: You’ll figure it out.
2012 Me: So I should just give up this city council thing right now, I mean, I’m not getting on the ballot anyway, right?
Me: Just do what you’ll set out to do. But on the very last day, in front of that Ralphs on Hollywood and Western, you’ll already know that you won’t get the signatures you hoped for. You’ll feel disappointed, but you’ll also feel relieved because you’re already stressing out about not raising any money. You don’t know how to raise money for these things. But that’s okay. Just go into the City Clerk’s office on the December 5 and pretend that you have all the signatures. And then they’ll tell you right there you won’t have enough. you’ll know this already, but because of that, you’re already emotionally prepared to hear the news. And then go on your adventure. I think you already know where to go. Don’t dwell on your disappointment but immerse yourself in the town of Indep…oops, I mean, wherever you decide to go. And the place will be very kind to you. Be open to discovery. You’ll forget about your failure very fast. And when you come back, sure, there will be people who would have lost their faith in you and don’t care about you anymore, but you’ll easily replace them with these new friends that you’ll meet throughout the next year, who understand your ideas and your heart better than those people who don’t care about you anymore. It’ll be okay, man.
2012 Me: Did you regret running for office?
Me: I’m not proud of it, and I’m not sure what I achieved aside from $2,000 in debt that I’m still trying to pay off, but…I have no regrets. Whatever you do from this point forward won’t have any context unless you go through with this. You’ll end up endorsing some of the other candidates. You’ll even make friends with some of them. Well, except for you-know-who.
2012 Me: Heh heh heh.
Me: Heh heh heh. Well, I have to get back to 2013 now. It was nice talking to you, 2012 Elson. Hang in there.
2013 Me: Hey, are you gonna go visit 1983 us and show him how to be more confident with girls?
Me: Hm, I’d like to do that, but on second thought, I could get arrested trying to strike up a conversation with a minor.
2012 Me: Oh, right. Hey, you wanna jam? Me on keyboards, you on bass?
Me: Man! Wow, I’d LOVE that! But…I gotta go back now. Hey look at me, no wrinkles yet! Happy 41st Birthday! [Enters portal, disappears]