1986 - The Year That Everything Blew Up

I was on a coach bus heading back north from Champaign-Urbana. As far as I can remember this was before we stopped at a Bakers Square and Alex Imas and I attempted to devour an entire french silk pie. Alex and I were talking to the seniors about all sorts of things: cheating, girls, gambling, college. Eventually we got around to the great burden resting on the seniors' shoulders, the senior research paper. That's when some guy named Leo talked about his recently-turned-in masterpiece, with a title I'll never forget:

"1986 - The Year That Everything Blew Up"

It changed my life. As I recall his essay was about Chernobyl and eating enormous mutant rats for dinner. I don't think he passed. But boy, what a title.

I bring this up, well, because in general I've been nostalgic lately, and I'm remembering all sorts of little details from my past. I also mention it because I've been looking back at the year that just passed, and there's a pretty strong current that runs through it. It's just That Time for my peer group. That's right, this year was:

"2009 - The Year that Everyone I Know Made Plans to or Did in Fact Get Married"

Like, everybody. I don't know what socks I'm going to wear tomorrow; I can't imagine knowing who I want to spend the rest of time with. Actually, that's a cliche response to marriage. That part of it doesn't befuddle me so much. It's more that even if I was at the point where I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone, I can't imagine marriage being the best option at this point. I feel like there's so many other things I need to figure out first. So many things I need to become before I can even be qualified to be a husband, and, even more so, a father. I'm not even talking about material things, necessarily (although I can barely afford a box of Cracker Jack and the ring inside let alone an engagement ring). I'm talking about character things. Responsibility things. Life-decision and career things.

I've eschewed concrete paths and plans for awhile now. Life seems too chaotic and unpredictable for them. I've long preferred to take a passion and run with it. I must be getting older because I realize that I need to come up with some concrete goals and develop tactics to work towards them. Winging it doesn't work when someone else's life is involved. I think I've learned that lesson as a teacher, and I'm finally starting to apply it to my own life. I hope that all these newly married couples - or those who soon will be - have figured these things out for themselves. I hope they're at some sort of peace with themselves as individuals. I don't think I'm there yet. I hope to be, someday. I wouldn't want people to remember my marriage as the One Where Everything Blew Up.