I’ve got nothing Bill and Ted’s excellent time-traveling adventure

As I was perusing the DVD aisles of Best Buy after, like a good little lemming, picking up my bare-bones DVD edition of “Kill Bill: Volume 1” on Tuesday, I was drawn to the “Comedy” section. Not quite sure why, I stumbled around the As and Bs until I saw it: the shining beacon of hope and understanding. Its case, with the shrink-wrap glimmering, called to me in ways I still cannot explain. It was the one true thing that could save me. George Carlin, Alex Winter and, of course, Keanu Reeves looked as if they were sages, profits sent from another time, to guide me. I was staring at a $10 copy of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I had no clue why that ran through my head though. I just wanted to get home and watch Uma Thurman cut people up real good. When I woke up from my three-and-a-half hours of sleep this morning, I had no intention of pondering about time, space and the meaning of life. But as I settled down with a can of Cherry Coke to watch the Bride rip-roar through a bunch of insane, black-masked Yakuza henchmen, I could only hear the word “EXCELLENT”,followed by a guitar solo, echoing through my brain. But still, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was suddenly obsessed with air guitar solos and the vernacular of the late 1980s. Then, it hit me like a time-traveling phone booth. You see I’m a college junior. That means I only have one year and 20-something days to figure out what I’m doing with my life. But it’s not something I’ve bothered putting much stock in. I always figured I’d just get a job at my father’s company. Then I remembered my father works as a bereavement coordinator for HOSPICE, and he doesn’t own the company. I also realized that I didn’t particularly want to work with dying people and their families. So, I’m back to square one. So that was the jig. I’d have to construct a time machine, go back in time, and warn myself that I needed to get my ass in gear and decide just what I was going to do with my life. Then, I would go even further back, to a simpler time when the restaurant chain Newport Creamery was still open, and I’d order myself a club sandwich and a coffee frappe. Once I get my sandwich and ice cream beverage, I’ll have to travel further back in time to stop Lincoln’s assassination. I’m not exactly sure why, but I always felt it would be cool. Then, maybe I’ll go back to Prehistoric times, mainly because I want to ride around on a triceratops and yell, “I am Lord and Master of this Land, this Land of the Lost!” So I waited around my room for a few hours, with the hopes that my phone booth/chariot/time machine would arrive. I mean, Bill and Ted just had it come to them, so I decided to wait. Sadly, it never came. Then I remembered that in the movie, Bill and Ted went to the local convenience store before Rufus, their guide, appeared. But after hours of standing in front of Store 24, Campus Convenience and CVS in the rain, I decided I was going to have to build my own damn time machine. So I got all of the basic time machine necessities: one cardboard box, big enough for two (in case I meet a most excellent babe in the past), a couple of light bulbs, some tinsel and a TV antenna. I was then all set to do some time traveling. I set my machine out in the hall, and ignoring the weird looks on the faces of the people on my floor, I blasted back through time. I finally arrived at 1999, and purchased my club sandwich and frappe. It was delicious. Then, I was off to save President Lincoln. As I arrived at the Ford Theatre that fateful April day, I ran to the President’s state box just in time. He turned, and I accidentally fired the gun that was meant to shoot John Wilkes Booth, hitting Lincoln in the head. I then screamed like a six-year-old girl, pointed at Booth, and yelled, “He did it!” Then, I pushed Booth over the railing and out of the state box, and ran back to the safety of my time machine. From there, I went back to the Cretaceous era, and found myself a sturdy triceratops, battled some tyrannosaur, and smiled as I looked out over my land. Now, I thought to myself, what else am I supposed to do that was so important? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. I’d make it through, all right, and had nothing to worry or complain about. Then, I decided to go and get me another one of those delicious club sandwiches. Time traveling sure is the life.

Quintin Marcelino, a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached by email at quintinmarcelino@hotmail.com.