Ostomy Memories Time Travel


I’VE JUST DISCOVERED THAT the tinkerer who lives nearby and spends long evenings making odd sounds in his workshop has come up with something. He has invented a time machine. Although it kind of looks like a do-it-yourself project gone wrong, he swears that it will transport me through time. He says that, just two days before, he had tea with Shakespeare’s scrivener. So he asks me: do I want to try it? OMG, what do I do? DO I WANT TO GO BACK IN TIME, OR FORWARD INTO THE FUTURE?
Now, there’s a bit of a catch to this, he says. First of all, his time travel machine, being a prototype model, can only be programmed in 100-year increments. Well, that’s not a big deal, I say. But, he says, the next thing is that I have to sign a paper promising that I absolutely will not, under any circumstances, do anything that might alter history (if I go back in time), not can I take advantage of anything that I might learn about the future (should I time travel forward). Naturally, I would have no problem signing such a promise. What’s he going to do, sue me?
Third, he points out to me that, although he can program his time machine to take me wherever I want to go (England, Persia, Rome, wherever), I won’t be able to speak the language, and that could present a problem. Even in England, he reminds me, if I go back far enough, the language will not be any English that I recognize. This recalls the troubles I had reading Chaucer, and he was 14th Century.
Now, if I travel back in time, my superior knowledge could give me an edge if I run into any difficulties. On the other hand, health care back then being even worse than it is today, I might catch my death.
If I travel into the future, I might learn all sorts of cool things from futuristic technological advances that would make a smart phone seem antediluvian by comparison. On the other hand, I may find myself in Kevin Costner’s “Waterworld,” what with global warming and all, and I don’t know anything about operating boats. Then it occurs to me, I better ask him if I can take some ostomy supplies with me.
What would you do?

Hello HenryM.
You have certainly given us something to think about by posing the question: 'Would we wish to go backwards or forwards in time?'. without trying to be deliberately awkward, my immediate response would be that you have missed out an obvious alternative - which is to stay put and decline the offer to time travel to anywhere. It may be an old-age thing, but I feel fairly contented that I have lived for long enough to have appreciated the time I have spent alive. If I have more to come, then so be it. I firmly believe that it's not the length of time we have but the quality within it that matters most..
Obviously, I have contemplated this concept in the past and have penned a verse to try to capture my thoughts on the subject so, thank you once again for presenting the opportunity to resurrect poems from the past. Who knows? they might even last into the future. 

Best wishes


Life is unpredictable
A path from birth to death.
It’s surely unforgivable.
Not to use our every breath.

Our time is very limited.
Upon this mortal coil.
It would be quite unmerited
If any time was spoiled.

Let us try to analyse.
How all our time is spent.
How we tend to rationalise.
When, where and why it went.

I prefer the term, ‘time-SPENT’.
It feels like time’s invested.
‘Waste’ is more a non-event.
Some time, somehow detested.

As precious time glides quickly by.
Each minute counts, they say.
I start to ask for reasons why.
My time has slipped away.

As I look at time some more.
It soon occurs to me.
When you’re young you’ve time galore.
So ‘spend it wild and free.

Years have flown and you have grown .
And now you ponder on.
All you’ve done and all you’ve known.
And all the time that’s gone.

I can’t regenerate my time.
Thus, I became aware.
That others’ try to spend what’s ‘mine’.
And do not seem to care.

The way that people pass their time.
Inevitably portrays.
How far they fall, how high they climb.
With all their wishful ways.

For some, their whole life is spent.
Doing what their told.
They live their lives in discontent.
They’re rarely ‘self’-controlled.

Other people try so hard.
To please their fellow man.
They fail to sort their own back yard.
Their own life’s down the pan.

People do the weirdest things.
In time they might revile.
They’ll even go to strange meetings.
That clearly weren’t worthwhile

I must be a bit more careful.
In future use of time.
To make it much more purposeful.
I’ll keep on writing rhyme.

All those little rhyming verses.
Clear concepts clasped within.
Those inspired by hate or curses.
Or by love and sin.

Rhyme has a sense of timelessness.
So when I’m long since gone.
With a bit of hopefulness.
My rhymes might linger on.

                                  B. WITHERS 2007

                                   (in 'Contemplation'

<p>Bill:&nbsp; I've dealt with TIME poetically too, from a differrent perspective.&nbsp; Here 'tis:<br /><br /></p> <p>I Don&rsquo;t Remember Anything</p> <p><br />I don&rsquo;t remember anything/<br />From certain times of life,/<br />Unless it was determining/<br />Like marrying my wife./</p> <p>Too many lonely instances/<br />Are buried in the crush/<br />Of autonomic nuances/<br />And workaholic rush./</p> <p>One&rsquo;s memory&rsquo;s a master wit/<br />In ever-changing mien,/<br />That speculates a benefit/<br />To wipe a synapse clean./</p> <p>My retrospective prejudice/<br />Disturbs retrieval cues,/<br />So recollection&rsquo;s hit or miss,/<br />Old engrams are old news./</p> <p>Sometimes a vision comes to fore,/<br />A dubious depiction/<br />Of autobiographic lore/<br />That mingles fact and fiction./</p> <p>My memory&rsquo;s not a video/<br />Depicting life&rsquo;s parade;/<br />It may reflect an ebb and flow/<br />That&rsquo;s largely a charade./</p> <p>Reflections over time diffuse/<br />Encoded past events,/<br />Short-term is lost, long-term&rsquo;s confused,/<br />And ego reinvents./</p> <p>I don&rsquo;t remember anything/<br />Without uncertainty./<br />Do all my recollections bring/<br />Back pseudo-me, or me?</p>
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<p>Hello HenrryM.</p> <p>I do like this rhyme and its sentiments. I wonder if anyone other than us oldies really appreciate what it is you are saying here.<br /><br /></p> <p>Best wishes</p> <p>Bill</p>

Henry and Bill, you are both so clever and wise. I think I would decline and stay put. Either option is fraught with uncertainties. Better the devil you know.


Words of Encouragement from Ostomy Advocates I Hollister

Oh, Lord, if I were only 50 again, I'd be off like a shot! Backwards, forwards, doesn't matter, as long as my lovely hubby could accompany me. Why would I need to be younger than my current 64? I don't run as fast as I used to, and I guarantee I would be getting us both in a peck of trouble in no time! Why wouldn't I want to be younger than 50? Remember all those statements you tend to make that start, "When I was younger and dumber..."? Yeah, that's me!

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