Sometimes I hear little scraps of or tail endings of radio shows or conversations overheard that give me pause and make me want to sit and reflect a bit. Such as a week or so back on NPR when the host of Talk of the Nation asked this question: If you could travel in time, where would you go? A really good question, I thought, so I asked Hubby what time he’d travel to.
Surprisingly he answered after little pondering and allowed as to how he thought it would be really interesting to go back to the time on earth when language was just beginning to take form. We jawed back and forth on that idea for a few moments, wondering just when that moment would be, and I reckoned that would have to mean going back to neanderthal times at the very least.
But where would I wind up, I wondered? I thought and thought, as we drove on to our destination, what period would I like to time travel to, if there was such a thing as a time machine and assuming nothing would happen while there to prevent me coming back.
Then someone on the show suggested, and I think it might have been Miss Manners Judith Martin, that she would have to have a bit of time to think about it, consider the implications of whatever period she chose. Like, for instance, what did people eat in that period.
Great question! And did they have good dentists with modern equipment in case you got a toothache, or a simple aspirin if you got a headache. I’ve always thought it would be pretty neat to live in any past period, provided you can stay as informed and hold onto the same knowledge of history we have before we go. The drawbacks, alas, were always the lack of medical and dental care.
We arrived at our destination too quickly for any conclusions, and Hubby has always accused me of being non-adventurous anyway. The real problem is, of course, that I’ve always had problems making decisions. Now, weeks later, I still haven’t been able to come up with a conclusive answer to my time travel question.
History has never been very kind to women. Men either, unless you were born rich and/or royal. Cavemen, if we can believe Jean Auel, treated women pretty bad, using them much like the proverbial cowboys and sheepherders reputedly use sheep to pass the lonely time on the praries. Even women in the courts during the Elizabethan age were traded like chattel among the Royals of Europe. The women who made the trek westward during gold rushes of the mid 1800’s didn’t live in picnic conditions on the trail either.
In conclusion, I guess today is the best time for women to be living even though we still seem to be reluctant to call a woman who would be president anything other than “bitchy.” All else considered, I guess it’s best to just stay here. I can just hear what Hubby will say if he reads this sometime. Never mind my lack of sense for adventure! Pragmatism wins over adventure in my book anytime.
And I’d just remind him, who would never turn down a chance to travel anywhere–even time travel–that he’d better forget living on nuts and grains in those caves while he’s helping develop language for the new agers. He’d better get used to gnawing on pig’s butt or feet at best or a lot worse, even worse than my cooking. I don’t think veggie burgers were available back then!