A 1911 Centennial Adventure
Don’t ask me how it happened — there ain’t room here. It took years of clandestine meetings with physicists and fakirs, crystal-gazers and crackpots, mediums, two sidewalk saints and a 16-year-old Cal Tech dropout who built a time-space holographic transmogrifier in his grandma’s basement. I’m not even sure if I was transported through a dimension-warp or it all happened in my head, but suddenly I was in a round room surrounded by opaque cloud-like vapors, with the tinglin’ taste of chewed aluminum foil in my mouth, waiting to meet a man who, as he calls it, “crossed over” — in 1926!
I was shakin’ my head and wondering if I could spit somewhere when a “ding!” like an old-fashioned elevator bell rang. Through the “cloud-wall” stepped John Moses Browning — irritated, grumbling, and flappin’ the lower edge of his robe.
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