The door opened and this guy shambles in. He’s wearing old, old clothes and a beard, and he says, “Do you fix time machines?” Quick as a wink I say, “Time machines?” He nods, so I tell him how we do mechanical work and bodywork and painting on all foreign and domestic cars, how we’ve been in the same location for more than 50 years, and how we do an honest day’s work for an honest price – he interrupts me and says, “Well I just traveled here from 1880 and —“ I interrupt him. “Do you know what we’ve done here since then?” He says, “No, I just got here and —“ so I start to tell him about electricity, radios, automobiles, television, airplanes, movies, heart replacements, wireless phones, vacuum cleaners, computers, aspirin, weapons of mass — he starts to the door. “Where are you going?” I ask. “Back to 1880,” he says. “This is to complicated!” I say , “But I haven’t finished! There’s also electric toothbrushes, washing machines, chewing gum —“ But he was gone. Darn, I never told him Kleenex. Or belly-button piercings.