So I woke up early today to go work out. We've had some stormy weather the past two days so it was crazy humid this morning. There was a layer of condensation on my truck window, which I normally wouldn't have noticed except that someone used their finger [I hope] to write on my driver's side window. The message left for me: "LOST"
All day I've been wondering what it meant.
As a minister am I could interpret it as a spiritual message. You know, "there are plenty of lost people in this city, so as you begin your day, remember who's out there."
Sorry, I don't think it was a mission from God.
I guess it could've been someone from the westside of town who mistakenly took a wrong turn and ended up in Eden Park. As they traversed the steep hillside they wanted to make sure that someone knew they were "lost."
I doubt it. Like any self-respecting westsider would go east of 1-71.
Then again, it could be a viral marketing campaign to boost ratings for ABC's hit show that seems to get weirder by the episode.
Not buyin' it. I guess it makes sense since we don't watch Lost, but we never will. By the way, did the season really end with some guy turning a wheel to submerge the island into the ocean?
I believe the real message takes a little more investigation. And I think I finally figured out what it means. It's a message from myself . . . from the future. In the year 2018, when time travel finally becomes the norm, I traveled back in time to 2008 to warm myself of an imminent assassination attempt.
So, obviously, "Lost" is actually an anagram for "Look Out, Steven Tyler!"
Why someone would be so cruel to kill the lead singer of Aerosmith, I don't know. Like I've always planned, in the year 2015 Steven Tyler ends up living in Cincinnati, we run into each other on the street, and I sing Aerosmith's greatest hits to him. He is so impressed that we become best friends. Then, in his later years, I pen an epic biography of his life that wins me many accolades and phat [emphasis "p-h"] cash.
Oh, and I grow a handlebar mustache, but that doesn't factor in to this story.
But I know what you're thinking: why, if you're going to take the effort to travel through time, just leave an arbitrary note on a window when I could just make contact with myself? The reason why, is because it would be too dangerous. Future Steve wouldn't have been able to talk to Current Steve as, anyone who has ever watched VanDamme's cinematic masterpiece Timecop knows, we could touch and since the same matter can't occupy the same space simultaneously, we'd both blow up. Duh. Yes, I am the only one who can save the future of America's greatest Boston-based band [sorry New Kids On The Block]. I . . . am . . . Livin' on the Edge. I am worthy of the task set before me.
So Future Steve, if you're reading this ten years from now, I'll be checking my car window again tomorrow for another message. Or, to save me from having to clean my window, leave a note on my windshield instead.
I don't do so good with hidden messages, anyway.