If You Had a Time Machine, Where Would You Go?

I have heard this question often, but never properly answered it. I guess, I would be too scared to go to the past, you know, in case I alter some sort of history. That would send me forward, which to be honest, I wouldn't hate, but without money to buy any new-fangled gadgets, I would be tortured whenever I saw a holo-book, or a uni-moped.

Imagine then, a doctor who concept of time travel, where you only change things by specific actions rather than simply by your presence. If this were the case, then I guess I'd go to 1977. I've seen countless documentaries about the rise of punk and I've always wanted to witness the explosion of when the Sex Pistols played 'God Save the Queen' on the jubilee. Since my craft is fiction writing, here's how I hope it would go:

"No future! No future for you!" Johnny Rotten cries out as the gig explodes into a frenzy of chaos. He whips his head back and forth to rid himself of the saliva pasted into his skin and clinging to his spikes. I don't understand how these people can cope with the constant gobbing.
 I have landed my TARDIS on the boat party the Sex Pistols hosted the night of the silver jubilee. I feel awkward, knowing that this particular show ends with the police. Suddenly I can see blue uniforms swarming in on the band. The drummer is hefted off of his stool and the rest of their band are robbed of their instruments.
 I clear out hastily before the violence starts but check the newspapers in the morning. Sure enough, there's the scandal, occupying the front page. I grab a sharpie from my pocket and scroll DFTBA, just to leave a small stamp on the seventies, before sauntering into the TARDIS and returning to 2012.

If any details are incorrect, I apologize since this took place twenty-one years before I was born.

That's what I would do with a time machine, as long as it was a TARDIS because it's a little conspicuous - a fourteen-year-old driving a DeLorean from central Scotland to London.

What would you do?