My Time Machine

Let me tell you about the journey that I recently had. It was a travel back in time with my old but reliable time machine. Others have those high tech push-button devices where the travel path is set, some have tried to explain, on a shiny thin plate that contains zeros and ones. These zeros and ones, I could never understand. I wouldn't trade my machine for those fancy ones. Mine may be old but, down the bygone lane, it sure could still smoothly cruise.

My journey brought me back to 1984. I have not traveled back there before. My journey was not driven by a shiny thin plate with all those ones and zeros but, rather, by a black vinyl with its winding tiny groove.

I turned the machine on after laying the black vinyl down on its round table. As the table turned around at rpm forty-five, I lifted the magnetic cartridge that was attached to a pivoting lever and then placed it slowly on the black vinyl, near its rounded edge. The machine sounded sssssssssss... I rushed to my chair, leaned back and then closed my eyes. Shortly, the hissing sound ended and was followed by the sound of plucked strings: tnggg tngg-tngg-tng tngg-tngg tngg-tngg ....

[Time can never mend,
The careless whispers of a good friend,
To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind,
There's no comfort in the truth,
Pain is all you'll find.]

Then there I was, driving in my car on a rainy afternoon of May, 1984. I was with my best buddy, we were just off from work.

“China and I are getting married next month ... on the thirtieth,” I excitedly broke the news to my buddy.

“Why?” he asked, looking puzzled.

“What do you mean 'why'?” I likewise asked, trying to ascertain if he really was puzzled or just faking it. I was somewhat disappointed.

“It's great to be single and free,” he replied. “Why would you throw it all away?”

“Well, we'll have to go through it sometime ... somehow,” I said as I minded the busy road. “You know ... settle down, raise a family.”

“Raise a family, you sure will,” he responded smilingly, “settled down ... I'm not sure.”

“What's wrong with China?” I asked as I stepped on the brake pedal to meet the red light, “Elegant and lovely .... Don't you think we could live together ... happily?”

He went quiet for a while, seemingly trying to formulate a measured reply. “Well, get married if you must,” he finally sounded as he pointed at the traffic light that just turned green. “But do your self a favor ... do it only once.”

Marry only once? Do my self a favor? What was that supposed mean? I glanced at him to get a clue. He was looking at the road, smiling.

“Is that an advice or a warning?” I wanted to get it from him. What he just said had somewhat dented my resolve. A string of dissuasive thoughts suddenly entered my mind and I couldn't understand why.

“Whichever it may serve you best,” he answered with a teasing smile.

[I feel so unsure,
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor,
As the music dies, something in your eyes,
Calls to mind the silver screen,
And all its sad good-byes.]

June 30, 1984 was, so far, the worst day of my life. I was in a chapel, looking at China as she walked slowly down the aisle, towards me. Every step that she took made my heart beat stronger and stronger. I hated my self. I should have called the wedding off while I still had the chance. I didn't have the courage to face China and tell her exactly what I felt. I couldn't bear the thought of breaking China's heart, her elegant fragile heart. “WWWD?” I asked my self. What would Wham do? That year, they were the coolest dudes on the radio.

[I'm never gonna dance again,
Guilty feet have got no rhythm,
Though it's easy to pretend,
I know you're not a fool.]

I thought that she would break down when I said what I had to say. But she just left the altar and walked quietly towards the door. The organ stopped playing, the guests were wondering. I wanted her to slap me and let me taste the pain that I had caused. But she acted just like the true elegant lady that she was.

[(Now that you're gone) Now that you're gone
(Now that you're gone) What I did's so wrong
that you had to leave me alone.]

Hooh! What a journey! I'm not going back to that year again. It brings about so much guilt. But, I have not totally closed my door on marriage. In fact, in 1987, I got married and started a family. And I did not do it only once. Last June, on the thirtieth, I said 'I do' for the second time. It was to re-affirm my devotion to the fulfilling marriage that I am blest to have. It was such a great joy to once again say 'I do' to a lady who, through all those twenty long years, has managed to remain elegant and lovely. Elegant and lovely like the traditional symbol for our twentieth wedding anniversary.

- The End -