Field Work

In an effort to discover truth in my Dog Years life timeline expansion theory, we headed east into the Mojave desert last week. Fossils were our main objective, but we were immediately segwayed into a random adventure amongst a fleet of cruise ships permanently moored in a tight long group along a narrow seaway NE of Baker California.

Travel plans not used impulsed a direction of travel not yet taken by us. A direction that really had no destination other than one of entertainment within a capsule of time not to exceed 36 hours due to our responsibilities at home. Anything was possible within this capsule and I mean quite literally, anything at all. It was up to us and the desert currents which were unpredictable due to the nature of the anchorage which we found ourselves moored upon. The currents proceeded to sweep us up and down the row of ships and whenever possible we boarded through glamorous and not so glamorous gangways which led us into the bowels of ships we had seen before but had become disinterested in due to reasons we were immediately reminded of once our memories were refreshed by the smell of crappy bourbon twinged with stale cigarette fragrance which seemed to emanate from all corners of these ships excluding a few higher end liners.

Each of these ships seemed to have its own cheesy theme which feebily attempted to sweep it’s passengers into a fantasy world that would vanish instantly if and only if the ATM machine ceased to produce new currency on a regular basis. These ATM machines appeared to be the main and most important hub within these ships. Of course almost equally important were the countless rows of machines beckoning passengers to sit down and gaze upon their individual screens that once fed with currency proceeded to entertain for brief periods of time followed by long depressing moments occupied by drags on lesser known brands of cigarettes and gulps from plastic cups shaped like footballs and flower vases topped with curly straws .

Hours passed and we didn’t even know it due to a lack of sunlight, clocks and schedule. We were lost in a sea of sand and concrete but we intended to go deep. The deeper we could get, the more clear my theory would reveal its truth. The truth being a simple observation that if one is to truly lengthen time, he must expose himself to new surroundings and challenges continuously in an effort to make the brain realize that what it sees is new and requires attention. Plying the brain with Jameson rocks on a regular interval amplified this self induced confusion. All part of the scientific method I was so passionately attempting to execute.

And so it went for many hours into the next morning. Travelling by foot up the anchorage, we observed and interacted with a cast of characters along the route to our berth. I was blessed by one for flipping some coins into her hand and I thought how funny it would be if God really gave me credit for my act. If God did give us credit, wouldn’t Bill Gates be the Pope?  We walked on , deeper into the anchorage until we found a ship that would berth us. She was a good ship, sleek lines and well dressed crew. Upon boarding her, we noticed a lack of odor. Her quarterdeck was awash in color and light and she was truly beautiful. We found our berth and shut down around 4 am.

The morning sun failed to penetrate the barricade of fine silk and linen our host had wired up to a remote controlled deployment system. Instead, we were awoken by the sound of our silence and a desire to stay in this place for just a little while longer. Long enough to analyze our experience in this time capsule. Did in fact our timeline expand or was it merely an alcohol induced fake out? What were all of these tokens in my pockets? Why did my mouth taste like an ashtray awash in Irish Whiskey? Why were my feet sore? Where the hell was I?

We were lost in the desert along with tens of thousands of other souls but we were different. We were performing a scientific experiment.  The experiment continued with my entrance into a launch headed out of the anchorage to a shore I had never seen. The skipper of the launch insured me that the passage would be smooth and uneventful. Upon reaching the distant foreign shore I was greeted by a pirate armed with a side arm, indicating a need for respect and tact. I was to transact business with this pirate and that is precisely what I did. We counted coins and agreed upon a price. These coins were important to me as their conversion into the native currency would allow me to carry on with the experiment.  Unfortunately the pirate had no currency, just a promise to pay by way of a larger institution which was located on another shore of the anchorage. Off we went in the launch in search of the house which held the currency.  The house was marked by the best rangefinder from a distance and my skipper delicately maneuvered our craft through smaller vessels moored outside of the house. Within minutes I exited with currency and instructed the skipper to make a rhumbline course to the mother ship at the far end of the anchorage.

Back aboard the mothership I felt safer and relieved to be far away from the pirate  and relieved more to posess the currency required aboard this ship. With a fattened wallet I laboured to the fantail to discover my wife fully involved with our experiment. I joined her and time once again slowed down. The aging process was beaten for the moment.

Without any fossils or coins, we ended our experiment. Data was analyzed and a conclusion was formulated. The conclusion is that if one wishes to slow down time, one needs to expose the brain to new stimulous on a regular basis in an effort to keep the mind active and alert. This method can be amplified by imbibing heavily on spirits and also by taking unusually high financial chances for unobtainable rewards, in truth, one needs to get a little irrational to better confuse the brain into thinking time has truly slowed down. The side effects of this experiment if performed correctly should not outweigh the benefits. What I mean by this is that health and financial issues should not shorten the time the subject is in truth endeavoring to lengthen. Afterall, if this is the case what truly is the point of the experiment in the first place? Wait, I seem to have forgotten. Where are the fossils?

About Andy Killion

Andy closed his boat yard business this summer and is now embarking on a new voyage yet to be plotted.
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