How are we going to survive reality for the next four years?

In the summer of 2001, one year after CBS's Survivor became the first breakout "reality" hit on network TV, encouraging all the networks to produce similar shows, I remember hearing friends and other people say, "This trend won't last." But the following summer American Idol debuted, and it was as big, if not bigger, than Survivor. The fox, and not just the Fox network, had gotten into the chicken coop.

The networks, and especially cable channels, like reality shows because they're cheaper to produce than scripted shows. Donald Trump's presidential campaign spent half as much money as Hillary Clinton's, but Trump still won the states necessary for him to win the election; the star of NBC's hit reality show The Apprentice, produced by the same company that unleashed Survivor on the world, beat the odds.

And even though reality shows aren't really "real"—they're partly scripted to maximize drama, and the people on-screen, despite not being professional actors, are often seen acting out for the camera—they indulge viewers' appetite for voyeurism and rubbernecking, just as Trump indulged in racist, xenophobic, and misogynistic comments to woo like-minded voters.

My supervisor at work reminded me of the scene in Back to the Future in which Marty McFly is trying to convince Doc Brown, in 1955, that he's traveled back in time from 1985.

Doc asks Marty who's the president of the United States 30 years in the future.

When he hears the answer he scoffs, "Ronald Reagan? The actor? Then who's vice president—Jerry Lewis?"

President Reagan reportedly liked Back to the Future. But the thought of four years (or more) with Trump as our president sends chills down my spine.

The future is now. Seriously, right this minute.

In addition to forecasting that the Chicago Cubs would win the World Series this October, Back to the Future Part II, released in 1989, predicted a "Jaws 19" in 2015. That one seemed like a much more obvious joke 26 years ago, especially after the fourth Jaws bombed in '87, but Universal, the studio that distributed the three Back to the Future and four Jaws movies, had one of the biggest hits of this year with Furious 7, the latest installment in a franchise that appeared to be running on empty after its third film, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, performed poorly at the box office in 2006.

(Much like the fictional "Jaws 19," the Fast and/or Furious series has been refreshingly honest about its age in recent years, especially since other series tend to drop the numbers from their movies' titles after the third installment. For example, compare Fast Five, Fast & Furious 6, and Furious 7 to the fourth and fifth entries in the Mission: Impossible series, Mission: Impossible—Ghost Protocol and last summer's Mission: Impossible—Rogue Nation.)

Now Universal's planning to make three more (and a fourth Riddick movie, presumably to keep Vin Diesel, the star of both franchises, happy). I predict that the inevitable series "reboot" will go into development the day after "Fast + Furious X" leaves theaters.

Now where my food hydrator at, Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis?

songs that double back

I love the piped-in music that's played in grocery stores and drug stores. I often get to hear songs I haven't heard on the radio in years, and since I don't have any objections to soft rock, the lighter sounds that are typically played in these stores don't make me want to shoplift out of spite. The other day I heard "Doubleback," ZZ Top's big single featured in 1990's Back to the Future Part III. "The Power of Love" it was not, but just as Huey Lewis made a cameo in the first Back to the Future in '85, the ZZ Top triumvirate showed up in Part III to play Old West musicians who had spinning-guitar straps all the way back in 1885.

When I heard "Doubleback" the other day at the grocery store, it wasn't the first time I'd heard it in that setting; the first time was last month. And last spring I walked into the grocery store and heard the opening boi-oi-oing strains of Bread's "If," then walked in exactly one week later and heard it once again from the very beginning.

I don't think this is a case of the Jewel-Osco supermarket chain having too short of a playlist. I think it means I go to the grocery store more frequently than I realized. (I don't own a car, so it's a lot easier on my arms if I go three or four times a week rather than one. I HAVE WEAK ARMS, OKAY?) I also think Jewel-Osco wants me to buy more bread.