Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking and Carl Sagan have all covered time and spatial relationships in their writings. I don’t understand any of these things.

I just know you can travel through time, in theory anyway, and might find a few black holes in the cosmos somewhere.

I realized in college I wasn’t that smart. I could attempt a career as a quantum physicist, or just write whatever the hell I wanted.

Now mind you, I do actually understand some science.

When that astronaut in “2001” turns into a Giant Space Baby, well I kind of get that.

When Klaatu in “The Day The Earth Stood Still” writes equations on a blackboard, I know it’s all “Hollywood-ed Up.” Probably not even a real equation.

But when he says, “This Earth of yours will be reduced to a burned-out cinder.”

Well I pretty much understand that one too.

What I’m really getting at – is that I flunked fifth-grade math.

But also, that time travel exists even in our realm – with us “little people.”

And it involves U.S. interstate highways.

Say you’re behind a slow 18-wheeler in the right lane. They’re always slow.

They always are, and you have to wait for the endless slowness and trudging.

You look in your rearview mirror. There’s a car about two miles down the road.

So you decide to pass the truck. About halfway through the pass, the two-mile car is suddenly on your tail, flashing his lights at you.

How did he get up there so fast?

Guess what? Time travel.

Another equation. Two cars leave the same location at the same time. But one gets to his/her destination before the other.

Again, time travel. Here’s why.

When both encounter a closed off lane, with signs clearly indicating the closed one – one car goes to the correct blocked-up lane.

The other ignores the signs and drives right up to the barricade and waves, “Can you let me in? Can you let me in? Please please please oh pretty please!”

And is promptly rewarded for cheating, because the car who lets it in doesn’t want to wait any longer either.

I need Mr. Hawking to tell me how I can turn into the Giant Space Baby.

I wonder if they have infant chairs that big in restaurants? Probably not.

And gosh-darn it, I’ll never find the right-sized clothes.

Which won’t matter anyway because I’ll be in space, floating around.

But at least I’ll not have to pay-off my credit cards for a good while.

Or get my driver’s license renewed.

Or put up with that pesky time travel traffic.