She blinked into existence just as we had completed the new listing for Yes. “Quick,” she said. “You must publish the schedules for Widespread Panic and The Von Bondies on the Internet immediately.”

“What’s the rush?” we asked her. “Will listing these tours help prevent terrorist attacks? Biological warfare? Robert Blake making bail?”

“No, but it will help prevent an upcoming economic depression. By publishing those tours on the Net, you’ll lay the groundwork for Britney getting back together with Justin.”

“Uh? Are you serious.”

“As serious as a Cher service charge,” she replied. “If those two don’t make up before 2005, there will be a serious depletion of the world’s population. Millions of men will refuse to marry and father children, all because they think they have what it takes to be Britney’s one and only.”

“It’s that bad?”

“That’s only the half of it,” she said. “Entire corporate sales staffs will crumble because the salesmen do nothing all day but stare at the Britney posters hanging on the walls of their cubicles instead of pitching clients. Hmmm… While I think of it, you better publish Locobazooka! 2002 and Cyndi Thomson, as well.”

“Say, there’s been something we’ve been meaning to ask you,” we said as she pulled more schedules, including new dates for Mindy McCready, 54-40 and The White Stripes from her purse. “You’re the only time traveler we’ve met. Are there more like you?”

“Oh, sure,” she answered. “Ever since Clear Channel licensed the Peabody WayBack Machine technology in 2015, time travel is as common as radio station festival shows.”


“Uh, uh. It’s really a no-brainer once you think of it. People will line up for the chance to see a young Elton John or Eagles at the start of their respective careers. In fact, it’s why so many people were in the audience at Woodstock.”

“You’re kidding,” we said. “Are you trying to tell us that all those people were from the future?”

“Of course.” After all, have you ever met anyone who was actually at Woodstock?”

“Er… no.”

“There you go. Anyway, I must be getting back to the future,” she said as she took her PDA out of her purse and started punching in the time travel coordinates, only to stop and stare at a piece of paper we were holding. “What’s that?” she asked.

“The new schedule for The Rolling Stones. It just came out yesterday. There are rumors that it will be their last tour.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “We heard those rumors in 2007, 2010, 2015, even 2025. But it will never happen. The Stones are never going to quit.”

“Now we know you’re yanking our chain,” we told her. “Are you trying to say that The Stones will still be touring in 2025?”

“Of course,” she answered. “And 2030 and 2035 as well. Of course, the stage will be a bit different.”

“How so?”

“Well,” she replied. “All those oxygen tanks, heart monitors, crutches and defibrillators do take up some room.”

“It takes all that to keep Mick and Keith up on their feet cranking out the jams?” we asked as she prepared to return to the future.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she answered. The Glimmer Twins will be in fine shape in the future.”


“Then what’s all the medical equipment for?” she replied right before she disappeared in a cloud of temporal dust. “That’s for their groupies.”