April 2004

I was in the airport with my brother, waiting for the rest of the cast to arrive. We were among the non-actors participating in the new Charlie's Angels series, and we were quite excited about the opportunity. The details were not apparent to me, but they didn't seem to matter either. I just knew that we'd meet the others somewhere on the concourse.

My brother asked about one cast member in particular, and I found that I actually did know something specific. "He's being played by that guy who used to be on The Love Boat," I told him. Keith tried to figure out which one it could be. "No, no," I said. "He's the one who was behind the desk. If you start from the bottom of the ship, and then move upward, but not all the way. His office was below deck level." As I described it to him my knowledge about the person rapidly faded, and I found that I didn't know why I'd said any of that. It was confusing to me, so I changed the subject. "Come on," I said.

We headed toward the main concourse, and there found a young woman talking to someone about the upcoming project. She was a member of the cast then, but resembled no one from the original production. Who was she? Here were the other three girls just now, and they did at least bear some resemblance to the original cast. They were also wearing skimpy blouses, and I noted that, when they stood at just the right angle, I could see their chests through the gaps in their shirts, between the buttons. But that didn't help me to identify this fourth Angel. Was she destined to be killed off? Was she even aware of the possibility? Just then she turned, and I was afforded a view of her entire left breast. The very concept of "women" suddenly seemed very strange to me, and somehow beside the point. I left the small group, distracted.

We were finally gathered as a group before the producers, standing still amid the buzzing airport throng. One of the producers, a middle-aged man in a business suit, addressed us all. "A recent opportunity has come to light, so I'd like to ask you all now: How would you like to play your parts, and actually live back in the '70s? There you would live out your lives in the roles you've been assigned to play." The idea seemed amazing, yet suffocating. Fortunately, the others seemed to agree with my sentiment, and there were sounds of general disapproval. The producer put up his hand, "Fine, fine. That's okay. But let me offer you another opportunity. What if I said that you could all relive your adolescence, retaining the knowledge you have now, with the chance to correct all of your past wrongs?"

The shouts and applause drowned out the rest of his words, and I found myself buoyed on the tide of excitement. The very idea of it made me euphoric--what a chance this would be! I would be fearless this time around, and there was so much I would be able to get done right this time. I envisioned myself back in school, socially unstoppable this time around.

As the cast ran out into the parking lot after being dismissed, I was stopped by a sandy-haired surfer. "Dude, what's up?"

I had no idea who he was, but I was so energized that I responded with a drawn out, "Duuuuude!" It was like I was already feeling the effects of a redrawn childhood, and any hint of reservation had already been stricken from my personality. "This is going to be so cool," I said.