What would *you* do if you were stuck in an endless time loop?
Didn't the Friday Newsletter just ask you that?
I didn’t even like Groundhog Day the first time I saw it.
I distinctly remember my first viewing. My parents had rented two movies from Blockbuster Video in early 1994—Grumpy Old Men and Groundhog Day—and we watched them back-to-back in one sitting. Maybe it was the combination of the two? Maybe it was the mood we were all in? Or maybe some things just take a little time to set in. I don’t know. I just know that none of us particularly enjoyed it.
Now—three decades later—I’m hard-pressed to think of a movie I’ve spent more time thinking about than Groundhog Day.
In one way or another, I think there are times when we can each relate to the plight of Phil Connors, the misanthropic television weatherman who finds himself trapped within an endlessly-repeating time loop of February 2nd in the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Who among us hasn’t, at some point, felt like we’re living out the same day over and over again?
Gallons of ink have been spilled over the past thirty years on the philosophical questions this silly-on-the-surface comedy film poses, but for me, it comes down to one scene relatively early in Phil’s loop, where he commiserates with a patron at a bowling alley:
Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?
Ralph: That about sums it up for me.
This is played for a laugh, of course, but I’ve always seen it as a sign that Phil’s situation might be unique, but his ability to change it isn’t. We’ve all got our own ruts, but we’ve all got time to make the most of the days we have and become the best versions of ourselves possible.
I dunno. Maybe that’s a totally wrong interpretation. I'll get it right next time.
I’ve also spent a lot of time thinking about what I would do if I were stuck in a similar time loop.
To wit:
I would—much like Phil—plan and execute at least one heist. This is a no-brainer. Deep down, we all want to rob a bank and there’s nothing wrong with admitting this so long as we don’t act on it outside of a time loop.
I would try BASE jumping. This is assuming that I’d be stuck in my time loop somewhere with access to a tall building, antenna, span or earthwork. 10% of me has always wanted to try this and 100% of me is certain that I would die trying.
I would learn some cool card tricks. Everybody loves card tricks. [holds up card] Was your card the six of clubs? Yeah, it was yesterday, too.
I’d read Infinite Jest, I guess? I’ve had it on my shelf for like twenty years and I haven’t gotten more than thirty pages in. At this point, a Groundhog Day situation is the only way I am going to read it.
I would get really, really good at skateboarding. In my current state, getting on a skateboard is every bit as likely to result in my death as BASE jumping, but give me ten years or so in a time loop and I think I could do it.
At some point, I guess I’d have to become a better person so I could get out of the time loop, too.
It’d be really funny if I did and then at the end of the day, after I’d blew everyone away with what a good person I was, I pulled a Tony Hawk-style 1080 out of nowhere and everyone was like “oh, okay, we get it—you were stuck in a time loop for a decade, weren’t you?”
I feel like they’d know right away.
What would you do if you were stuck in a Groundhog Day-esque time loop?
I want to hear it!
Hands off the bank robbery, though. That’s mine.
[ollies away with bags of cash just as the police arrive]
Friends, it is once again Friday at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.
We might not be stuck in a mystical time loop, but if there’s one thing we can count on happening over and over again, it’s the Friday Newsletter delivering everything you need to make the most out of your weekend.
Today, everything’s got a touch of the echoes to it—from a lunch worth repeating to an oddly-familiar cocktail, music from the crate, a book with some time loops of its own, and more!
Put your little hand in mine—there ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb.
Lunch, on repeat
It is a challenge—especially this time of year, when I’m trying to be just a little bit better both financially and dietarily—to not get takeout for lunch. When I’m being good and meal-prepping, I need to prepare something that will hold from Sunday until Thursday or Friday, but also something that I won’t be absolutely sick of eating by the fourth or fifth go-around.