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welcome to time travel 101, or, i’m about to watch waaaaaay too many time travel movies.

I don’t think anyone will accuse me of hyperbole when I say that the last twelve months have been, to use the scientific term, an absolute fucking nightmare.

As I publish this, we’ve just passed the one year anniversary of the full Covid-19 lockdowns around the globe, and even a worldwide pandemic that killed millions was just the most notable entry on a long list of deadly disasters. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail, you were there after all, but 2020 featured earthquakes, wildfires, volcanic eruptions, typhoons, a tsunami, hurricanes, flash floods, and an explosion in Beirut so big it was felt in at least five other countries. Throw in increasingly draconian tactics by governments and police in response to unconnected protests in countries around the world – United States, India, Myanmar, and Nigeria to name a few – and its clear the word apocalyptic isn’t a hyperbolic adjective for the last year. And it didn’t begin with 2020, with at least the last five years revealing themselves to be a series of ever-worsening hellscapes. Every time we think we’ve reached the bottom, we find out we’ve only just begun our descent.

Seeing as how all indicators point to a forecast of shitty with a chance of catastrophe, it’s well past the time for me to devise an exit strategy to get out of this mess. In truth, I should have had a go-bag packed by the front door ages ago, so it’s time to get my shit together. The last thing I’d want is to be caught unprepared when things go from worse to worst to holy fuck this is bad!

Here’s the thing, though, where does one escape when the chaos and clusterfuckery is everywhere? There’s certainly no quarter to be found by merely fleeing to a new locale.

No, the way I see it, there are only four real options.


Option 1: Gear up, train hard, and try to survive in an apocalyptic wasteland.



I’ll just be straight with you, I am very much not a survivalist. But even if I had more of the necessary qualities, this option is still a hard sell. By definition, any attempt to survive beyond Thunderdome is a nightmare scenario.

I mean, who knows, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to find a remote and undiscovered safe haven. Maybe you can even build a nice little life for yourself as you try to ride out the apocalypse, but how long could that really last before someone stumbles across your idyllic post-apocalyptic oasis? Sorry to my fellow spoiler-phobes out there, but that story doesn’t have a happy ending.

The opposite alternative would be to head out on the road and never stop moving, trying to survive by your wits on an unending search for the resources you need to survive another day. I’d say this strategy is the epitome of the whole ‘prolonging the inevitable’ thing. Your best chance of surviving would be finding a cannibal murder cult willing to let you join up, maybe because you have the same taste in music or books or something.

Even with all the zombie movies I’ve watched in preparation, I don’t see myself surviving long in either of these scenarios.


Option 2: An underground bunker or shelter



Now, I’m talking here about the sort of fallout shelter you lock yourself into and don’t leave for years or decades while you hope everything up top blows over. As far as bunkers you stay in for safety at night while living your daily life above ground, that would be covered above, under Option 1.

The whole full-time underground scenario is going to be a hard pass for me for so many reasons, the most urgent of which is my severe claustrophobia. Now, maybe I could make this option work if I had access to one of those massive fallout paradises created exclusively for the uber-wealthy (which was also stocked with an indefinite supply of powerful psychiatric medications), but let’s be honest, I’ll never qualify for one of those. If I end up trapped in anything smaller, breathing nothing but recycled air indefinitely, I’d have a series of increasingly intense panic attacks before finally succumbing to a stroke or heart attack. No joke.

Sorry, Ben Folds, I can’t be happy underground.


Option 3: Space travel



Again, claustrophobia! It would take quite the colossal generational space ark for me to survive even the early weeks of the voyage without having a complete meltdown, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t see any colossal generational space arks in our near future.

Alternatively, I’m also a no-go on the whole cryogenic hibernation thing. I mean, how many happy endings have you heard for stories about subzero space slumber? There’s always some sort of catastrophic system failure, after which some people die in their pods while others go space mad and turn on each other, or die of some horrifying alien virus, or are picked off one by one by a super-predator. It’s never, “And then the brave explorers were awoken ahead of schedule, because they’d been discovered by aliens who wanted to share space cupcakes and the secret to immortality.”

So, space travel? No-thank-you-please.


Option 4: Time travel



And here we come to the correct answer. I mean, come on, this is obviously the best option! When all else fails, it’s best to just grab your flux capacitor, kick that DeLorean up to 88 mph, and party like it’s… well, whatever fucking year you want!

And as we’ve established, for me it’s not simply the best option, but the only option.

Good, so that’s settled. Now the real work begins. I’ve got so much to learn to make this dream a reality. This isn’t the sort of endeavor where you just wing it and hope for the best.

For one, there’s the question of how one travels through time. I mean, are we talking a traditional Wellesian time machine? Maybe a vehicle of some sort, or some wearable tech? Will there be dimension hopping, or black holes, or maybe some wormholes? Will some fourth-dimensional alien technology play a role? A deal with the gods or some other mysterious mystical tomfoolery? Maybe the trick is surrounding myself with artifacts of an earlier time and using self-hypnosis to convince myself I’m in the past (I know that one sounds absolutely ridiculous, but it worked for Christopher Reeve).

Once a method of travel is finally settled on, there is still so much to account for. This is time travel we’re talking about, and it’s certainly nothing to be taken lightly. There’s so much that can go wrong, not just for me, but for all of human history, all of time and space for that matter! If I’m going to safely navigate the space-time continuum, and help all my loved ones do the same – while avoiding destroying the entire universe or whatever – I’m going to need to become a bonafide expert.

I bet you’re out there asking, “But Scott, how will you become such an expert? Will you spend a decade-plus getting multiple doctorates related to quantum physics? Will you spend thousands of hours exploring the relationship between speed, gravity, and time, whilst studying theories of negative energy density, wormholes, and cosmic strings?”

No, of course not. First off, I have more than enough student debt as it is before heading back for the masters level post-graduate work I’d need to get me started. Besides, that just seems like a whole fucking thing. Pass.

I’ve got an even better idea. I’m going to watch an absurdly long list of movies and see if that does the trick. I’m fairly confident a crash course in the storied history of time travel cinema will teach me everything I need to know to execute, survive, and even thrive during my temporally flexible adventures. Trust me, the logic checks out.

I’m certainly not entering my studies as a complete neophyte, but while I’m already relatively well-versed in the subgenre, the time for half measures has come and gone. I’m going all-in, whole-hog, full-bore! We’re talking a deep dive into the celluloid space-time continuum, and I’m inviting all of you to come along.

And what a deep dive it will be! It turns out there are a lot of time travel movies. Like, I knew there was a sizable catalogue, but when I started doing research for this series there were soooo many more than I could’ve guessed. Like, every time I reached the bottom of a rabbit hole of obscure time-travel films, it’s not that the hole would get deeper, it’s that I’d find another rabbit hole. I guess I really shouldn’t have been surprised. Time travel stories date back to at least the 1700s, and 2021 marks the 100 year anniversary of time travel in film (that’s not the reason I’m doing this, but it’s a nice little bit of kismet).

So far – and knowing me, I’ll keep searching – I’ve compiled a list of over 180 movies, that I’ll be using to watch my way to time travel expertise.* And because I’m nice like that, I’ll share conveniently organized movie lists with all of you, both for your viewing pleasure, and to aid you should you choose to devise a time hopping exit strategy of your very own.

I do hope you’ll join me on my cinematic time travel odyssey, beginning next week with a movie list all about resetting time loops.


*Full disclosure: I won’t watch or rewatch every film on the list. Even taking a mastery of time itself into effect, life’s way too short to spend 96 minutes watching the 2002 adaption of The Time Machine.

The end

some of my favorite music videos growing up. [88 mph.]

This list isn’t exhaustive, but it’s stuff off the top of my head that I remember being in love with at some point during my childhood. I’m sure that I’ve forgotten some big ones, but if the list had been exhaustive it would have gone on for weeks worth of video. When huge ones come to mind, maybe I will do a part two or something.

Some pretty awesome stuff on here, and some pretty embarrassing stuff on here. Don’t judge me… okay, judge me a little bit.

They are in no particular order. Not even chronological.

What were your favorite music videos?



Watch closely, and you will see that this video features another Philly icon who would someday become my favorite Philadelphian… Mr. ?uestlove.


/ a lifetime of memories / goin’ down the drain / i’d like to keep stepping, but i can’t get past the pain! /



I was five when this came out, and it’s the first video I can remember being my favorite music video.









In due time, “Thriller” would become my favorite video of all time. Yet, when I was a little kid it scared the living shit out of me. These were my favorite Michael Jackson videos, instead. So many of them.

The end

shai. [88 mph.]

Once one begins travelling down the road of memory, he quickly finds it to be a tricky one to get off of, because each exit has another delightful distraction. Yes, it might as well be a one way street. A one way street that is paved by YouTube.

I was so in love with Shai. I listened to and sang their songs, alone and with my little brother, countless times. Endlessly.

Their biggest hit, “If I Ever Fall In Love”, (for me, the a capella version is the only version) gets stuck in my head all the time, to this day.

And, “This is the Place Where You Belong”, from the soundtrack to the cinematic masterpiece, Beverly Hills Cop III. 

My ten and twelve year old self listened to these songs like hymns. Over and over and over.

God, I miss the soulful harmonies of 1990’s R&B groups.


The end

some reminiscing, including the early 1990’s charlotte hornets. [88 mph.]

I lay here in bed in the wee small hours of the morning, beginning my last day as a 20something. It makes sense that I reminisce, looking back on all of the things that have made my life what it is for my first three decades in this world.

So many things come to mind unbidden, many of these things make perfect sense. I loved pop culture early, so as far back as my memory goes I can think of all sorts of awesomeness, and plenty of embarrassment as well.

The first icon I idolized: Michael Jackson.The first record I owned: “Born in the USA” (I also owned “Bad” and Lionel Ritchie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling”). The first tape I owned: Bon Jovi’s New Jersey. The first concert anyone ever took me to: Rod Stewart. The first baseball game I ever attended: Yankee Stadium, Yankees vs. Royals, Mattingly homered. Favorite childhood pajamas: glow in the dark Superman symbol. The first CD I ever bought, BLACKstreet, by Blackstreet. I remember when my favorite bands were A Tribe Called Quest, Boyz II Men and Shai. My brother Matthew and I used to watch Newsies and Bedknobs and Broomsticks every weekend. Also, as much as I hate Michael Bay in my old age, I’ve actually seen Bad Boys and The Rock over a dozen times each (“What’dya say we cut the chitchat, A-Hole?!?”). There was a time when my favorite television shows were The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, The Simpsons, and Martin (yup, that’s right, Martin)[this also explains why I was so excited when Bad Boys came along]. I remember the summer that Jurassic Park and Robin Hood: Men in Tights came out, easily solidifying my belief that the movie theater was the greatest place in the universe, where very special things can happen.

I remember imagining I was turning into a superhero as I pulled up my underoos, just like in the commercial. I remember Thundercats, Gummy Bears, DuckTales, and later on, Animaniacs. I also remember making sure my grandma called me in from the basketball court at 4:30 every afternoon so I never missed Batman: The Animated Series. I remember the awe of Captain EO at Disney World. The earliest movies I remember seeing in the theater are Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, The Little Mermaid, Look Who’s Talking, and Oliver & Co. I remember seeing Sharon, Lois, and Bram do The Elephant Show live. I also remember wishing Bram was my dad. That was a cool live experience, but not as cool as when I got to go see the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Coming Out of Their Shells Tour.

One person I didn’t think would come to mind, but who was actually the guy who got this whole trip down memory lane started: Kendall Gill.

Growing up, my dad didn’t like sports, and my mom only liked baseball and football. Basketball was a complete mystery to me, but it was something I thought seemed pretty awesome from a distance. One night, with a Sonics/Rockets game on TNT, I decided I would teach myself the rules of basketball by watching it on television. I found what would become my first great sports love. Eventually I would settle into a long, initially happy though obsessive, eventually miserable marriage with the New York Knickerbockers. However, before the Knicks, there were the Charlotte Hornets. My God how I fell in love with the Charlotte Hornets. They were young and cool. They had awesome teal and purple uniforms. They had a crazy dunking mascot guy.

They had Kendall Gill, as well as sixth man Dell Curry. They also had up-and-coming superstar Alonzo Mourning. I had this poster on my wall (along with Barry Sanders and Marshall Faulk as a Colt).

He would go on to join the Miami Heat, bitter rivals of my beloved New York Knicks. In a brawl between the two teams, (a fight started between Zo and former Hornets teammate Larry Johnson) Jeff Van Gundy would literally be dragged around on the floor while holding onto Zo’s leg. Good times. Here’s low quality video of the event:


Speaking of which, they had former UNLV star (the last time UNLV was remotely relevant) Larry “Grandmama” Johnson. The one and only reason I started wearing Converse shoes.

He would go on to make more head fakes as a New York Knick than any other Knick in history, ever. Like, seriously, so many head fakes. It didn’t even make any sense.

He would also be a part of one of my five favorite Knicks moments ever.

Oh yeah, in Muggsy Bogues and they had a star PG who was only 5’3″. 5’3″!!! Let me just point out that if you are a short kid, whose last name also happens to be Small, being able to look up to… or sideways at… a 5’3″ NBA player is kind of the best thing that can happen to you. When kids in my fourth grade class started calling me Muggsy, I considered my life dramatically improved.

Oh, Charlotte Hornets. I’ve since moved onto a tumultuous relationship with the Knicks, and you’ve since moved on from Charlotte, but I will always cherish the memories. If you’re interested, we’re looking for a team to move to Seattle with the Sonics gone, so if you’re interested in a name change, it’s a great city to play in. Look me up when you get here.

The end

The Songs of My Father [ 88 mph ]

Growing up, before I ever really got into music on my own, my ears were held captive by whatever record (and later on CD) my Dad happened to be into at the time. I was a child of the MTV generation. Not the reality show MTV garbage that kids these days know and, in some cases love, but the “let’s actually be true to our name and show music videos” MTV. I didn’t know what was or wasn’t cool, and what was or wasn’t considered quality music for a chap of my age at the time. Maybe the fact that it was Dad’s music made me uncool for liking it, but I’m talking about as far back as age 6, where my Dad was the coolest guy I knew … to quote “The Wedding Singer”, “You’re eight years old, you only know your parents.” It’s funny how you grow up thinking your Dad is the coolest guy in the world, and then you hit a certain age, and all of the sudden you want nothing to do with him … but i digress …

At one of my places of work, thanks to satellite radio, I am brought back into this world of my dad’s music. I had intentions of trying to include a song from the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s, but as it turns out, most of what I grew up with was 80s, either that, or the artist/band repeated … anyway, let’s see what I can come up with …


1967, The Moody Blues, “Nights in White Satin” (or as I thought at the time “Knights in White Satin”, HA!)

1967, The Moody Blues, “Tuesday Afternoon” (pretty epic, especially in the context of the entire album)


1975, Led Zeppelin, “Kashmir” (why, oh why Jimmy Page, did you let that no talent ass clown Sean “Puff Daddy ‘P. Diddy’ ‘Diddy'” Combs use the amazing riff from this song on one of his bland, unimpassioned “songs”?!?! AND, you played with him! Why?!)


Here we go …

1986, Paul Simon, “Graceland” (Paul Simon and Ladysmith Black Mambazo, FTW!)

1986, Pink Floyd (sans Roger Waters), “Learning to Fly”

1986, The Moody Blues, “Your Wildest Dreams” (yeah, i know, more Moody Blues, he always referred to their music as “hippie music”, heh.)

1987, George Harrison, “Got My Mind Set on You”

1988, The Traveling Wilburys, “Handle with Care” (how awesome is Roy Orbison??? also, you gotta love supergroups)

Embedding is disabled, but go here to watch …


1990, Paul Simon, “The Obvious Child” (oh, Paul Simon and your Vampire Weekend inspiring Afro-pop)

1990, Eric Johnson, “Cliffs of Dover”

and because this is just way too fucking awesome to not include:

Anytime I hear any one of these songs, I am transported back to my childhood … a simpler time, where liking something your Dad liked was just fine … and I am glad that I am back to a place in life where I can say the same thing now. So, thanks, Dad, for liking good music (and for being completely oversensitive about the AC in the house, and for thinking “Predator” is the best movie ever made) … “HILARIOUS!”

The end

say it ain't so. [88 mph.]

Remember that stuff from the past that was really awesome? I love those things that you watch, taste, smell or listen to that suddenly takes you to a bygone part of your life. Even when the association may be negative, the sense of being transported to a feeling or state of mind that has long seemed dead and gone is a pretty remarkable experience.

Perhaps it isn’t nostalgia, but is just something that was awesome in the past, and is still awesome now.

That is what the 88 mph posts will showcase.

First up, the music video for Weezer’s ‘Say It Ain’t So.’ I’ve listened to The Blue Album countless times, but still, I hear a song from this CD and I am 12 years old, riding the Gravitron at the local fair.

It’s the last ride of the night, the guy running the ride tells us we can break the rules, turn upside down and such, and he will let us know when he is getting ready to shut down the ride. He blares Weezer, and lets the ride go for an unprecedentedly long amount of time.

It’s probably the best memory from my pre-teen years. It was so fun. As is this CD.

The end