A letter to my future self

Dear future self,

I would say it’s been a long time but, somehow, I doubt it has.
I’ve decided to write you this letter both in effort to impart some of my youthful wisdom and to ask some questions of the future.

Let me begin by saying kudos for your multi-platinum hit rock and roll album, Ghost Bus. Who would have thought the album idea I came up with this year would eventually go on to sweep the nation, shattering sales records and becoming an instant classic with fans and critiques alike? Man, it must have been a cool 20 years in the future — the great success and all.

But enough of that, let’s stay on topic. You and I both know this gravy train that is youth doesn’t last forever so, while I still have my innocence, let me offer some sage-like advice.

First, I urge you to take care of our body; I can already start to feel some wear and tear on these old bones so you must be an absolute mess at your age. I would think seriously about changing some of your lifestyle habits — I certainly don’t plan on changing anything on my end so it would mean a lot to me if you could pick up the burden sometime in the future.

Second, if you haven’t done so already you should climb a mountain. It doesn’t have to be one of the really big ones — I’ll be fine with a medium-sized mountain — but I think it’s important you are able to distinguish yourself with the title of mountain climber. Add that one to your resume and it will repay itself tenfold when you need a killer story. Okay, small mountain is fine.

Wait, do you still have mountains in the future or have they become obsolete?
Are there food pills in the future? How about robot butlers? Is teleportation a thing yet? Because I can’t wait for that one. Oh, how I’ve longed for the convenience of teleportation.

“Ryan, what are you doing just staring out the window?”

“Oh nothing, just dreaming of a day when we can freely teleport a submarine sandwich from Idaho to Timbuktu in mere seconds,” I would say.
Again, I’m getting off topic. I’m sure you’re familiar with the habit — because you’re me, get it?

I should probably ask: is the future a dystopian and/or apocalyptic nightmare? And if so, is it more like Terminator, The Matrix or the John Cusack film 2012? No one has been sent back in time yet to tell me I need to change the present, so I’ll assume none of those is the case.

My final piece of advice to pass along your way is to resist the societal pressure to wear those futuristic silver jumpsuits or to change our name to something like Laser-Beam or Keplar 7. I know these things may seem quite cool, but you should realize everyone is expecting it; you want to be a trend-setter, not some sort weak-willed follower. I suggest humungous wrap-around sunglasses, a nice fitting corduroy vest and maybe top it all off with a pair of classy black slacks.
If you absolutely have to change our name, do something subtle like throwing in some superfluous umlauts or macrons. Something like Ryän Hārbÿ — that’s not so bad.

Anyway, I’m sure the world needs you so I’ll let you get back to your future duties. Don’t forget to send a response. I’ll be waiting for the next, say, 20 years or so.

Yourself truly,
Ryan Spencer Harby

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