Timely desires

For the last several years I’ve realized that if I were to die tomorrow I’d really have no regrets as to what I did during my time on the planet. Obviously given that I’d like to do a great deal more, I wouldn’t particularly enjoy waking up dead tomorrow, but even still, I’m generally pleased what what I’ve accomplished.
There are however what I shall call “desires” that, if I were given the chance, I would gladly take them up. By no means are they regrets because to a large degree, they’re outlandish and seem to mostly revolve around time travel.
Absolute Polyglot
For some time I really wanted to just wake up one morning and be able to speak and write in any language in the world. In time however I’ve found that this would actually be a hollow thing to have as it would render the world absolutely flat. The character that exists in other languages would be gone if you knew them all in absolute terms. Also, as I’ve learned, the only way to truly learn a language is through immersion and within that process, you learn about the culture behind the language and why people say things they way they do. It must be said though that I’ll never understand “of the mother whore” in Spanish other than to know that it means exactly the same as, “the shit”. I’m sure Spaniards are equally stunned as to how “the shit” can be both good and bad, donc c’est la vie.
Meet my Great-Grandfather
My father’s family is complete shit when it comes to family history. I’ve pieced together a decent amount of it, but my great-grandfather, Joseph was the missing link to all of it and he died a decade and a half before I was born. The chance to sit down with him and chat for a day over his favorite wine, Zinfandel (because it was the same red that he drank in Croatia without knowing it) would be one of the most priceless things I could ever think of being allowed.
Seeing my Neighborhood in the Later 19th Century
I live on the fringe of, or actually in The Tenderloin neighborhood of San Francisco depending on who you ask. This is a pretty wacky hood that I really have gotten to love in the nearly a decade that I’ve lived here. It wasn’t always as it is today (many, many less tranny hookers in the past) and it was actually know as St. Anne’s Valley a long, long time ago. To see it during that time would be ever so cool. As it is, I am stuck living vicariously through old images.