How to Drive a Time Machine

  So I had this idea the other day.  I was thinking about the possible ways a time machine might be utilized and the longer I thought about it, the better the idea of building one seemed.
  Take for instance this scenario.  I could shift the machine into reverse, that is to go back in time.  But only by say fifteen seconds or so.  Then I could tell my devoted assistant to step into the machine.  But then 15 seconds before he steps into the contraption he would step out of the machine (having traveled backwards, you see).  Then as he steps out, but just before he steps in, I simply reach up and turn the machine off. And BINGO!  I now have two devoted assistants. Cool huh?
  Then I began to wonder about the ethics of the situation.  My usual assistant happens also to be my youngest son.  So if the machine really did its job would I now have two youngest sons?  How would that work?
  I began to get a headache thinking about that and decided to consider a simpler situation.
  So OK, I figured maybe 15 seconds was too ambitious for a novice time manipulator such as myself.  Lets ease into this I thought.  What if I dial the machine back to one second in reverse?  How to utilize this I wondered.  And then it hit me, well actually, it would hit my devoted assistant.
  I position him before the door, hand him a baseball and tell him to throw it into the machine.  But just before he releases the ball it sails out of the door and nails him on the noggin.
  Looking at the goose egg on his head I feel a bit guilty.  I had no idea the boy had that kind of fast ball.  Maybe fooling with the past is just too dangerous I decide, but what about the future?
  If I set the machine to travel forward only a moment or so and step into the portal, what would be the effect?
  Then I realized if I did this, my words would probably tumble out before my thoughts were formed.  That just wouldn't do because then no one would notice a difference between the future me and the present me.
   I need a larger gap.
  So if I set the date far enough into the future and step through my friends would be bound to notice right?
  Then I wonder, if I set the date far ahead would I arrive as today's deep thinking me or as a doddering old codger?
  Again I wondered, would my friends notice the difference?
  Time travel it seems, though an interesting topic, could easily be the most dangerous trip ever contemplated.  It's a good thing, I decide, I can have an unlimited supply of devoted assistants. 

Good Pirates, Good People

 A serious question I’ve struggled with since childhood has recently risen to the top of my consciousness again. Perhaps by voicing it out loud this time someone can help me with this moral dilemma. Is it possible to be a good pirate without becoming a bad person?

  There’s a kind of interesting story behind the question.  It involves cannon fire, a Nash Rambler, a nervous neighbor and maybe just a hint of piracy.

   It all started a couple of weeks ago you see, when my brother came over to help test one of my ideas.

   We often get together to shoot stuff with my cannon and have actually gotten pretty good at hitting the target which is usually a ’62 Nash Rambler that sits out in the pasture behind my barn. The one with the big hole in the wall, not my good barn that is.

   Anyway, the other day I decided we needed more of a challenge. Like a moving target you know. That seemed to rule out the Nash because it hasn’t run in decades and we had long ago shot most of its wheels off anyway.

    So I came up with a plan. I’ve always prided myself on my plans. Most of my plans are underrated, some are ignored. Some are feared. But all are based on good clean fun.

   I figured a moving gun and a stationary target is just as good as a moving target, right?

So we loaded the cannon into the bed of my truck. The one with the hole in the fender, not the good one that my wife drives.  We stuck a pirate flag in a stake pocket just for show and began to slowly circle the Rambler.

   I drove while Jack prepared to load and fire. This turned out to be not so easy as we bounced across the pasture. The first couple of rounds missed but the second had been close and I knew we were on to something here.

   On the third shot he scored. Sort of.  The cannonball caught the corner of the rear fender and ricocheted off to the south.  It promptly crossed the property line and scored a direct hit on the starboard bow of my neighbor Tom’s Sailboat as it sat majestically on its trailer in his driveway.

   Jack of course was horrified, as he should have been after such an atrocious shot, and he promptly offered that maybe we should go over to Tom’s and confess.  I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, mainly because I was afraid he might bring up my name during the confession.

   After a few minutes I was able to calm Jack down and send him home telling him I would smooth everything over with the neighbor. Actually, for once, I didn’t have a plan but I knew I had to do something.  So I picked a box of tomatoes and remembered to take down the pirate flag as I climbed into the truck to go visit with Tom.

   I pulled into his drive and parked next to the broken legged catamaran and climbed out of the truck. I walked slowly around the boat and out of curiosity reached through the hole in the hull and felt the cannon ball inside. I pulled it out and was just placing it in the bed of my truck when Tom pulled into the drive himself.  I picked up the box of tomatoes and met him by his truck.

   "Hey Tom." says I, "How’re you doing? I brought you these tomatoes. I just can’t use all I’ve got at the house".  Tom was already looking at me a little funny because of the gift. And then he saw the hole in the boat.

   His mouth dropped open and he walked silently toward the hull. He circled the trailer. Twice. And then he turned back to me. “What have you done”, he said in a quivering voice. “I just brought you a box of tomatoes”, I said.

“But my boat?” He yelped.

“I know.” I said, “I saw that hole as soon as I pulled into the drive. I've never noticed that before."
 “Have you been playing with that danged cannon of yours’ again?” he asked suspiciously.

“Truthfully”, says I, “I haven’t touched off a shot in over a week now”.
Boy, was I glad Jack wasn’t there now.  

   I walked around Tom’s pride and joy and then asked, "So what do you do with a boat with a broken leg? Do we just shoot it? Or can it be fixed?"

   “You know I’m no handyman” Tom said.  “Or else I wouldn’t have hired you to fix that big hole in my garage roof” he said as he looked up at the skylight I’d installed for him.
“I never did figure out how that got there”, he mumbled.

  Well to make a long story short, I bought Tom’s sailboat for what I thought was a very fair price considering the large hole in the hull.
 And later Jack was quite relieved when I told him that as long as he paid to repair the hole, everything would be good concerning Tom’s boat.

   Now I ask you, if all questions are answered honestly and a fair price paid. Was this piracy? And as far as letting Jack pay for the hole he punched in the hull, well that’s only right isn’t it? It did relieve him of a boat load of guilt and he did pull the trigger so to speak.

So yes I think talking it through like this, it is possible to be a good pirate without becoming a bad person. Right?