“Twenty-six.”
Go ahead, say it
out loud. It rolls off the tongue like a deflated basketball that makes a sploink sound when you try to dribble it.
It’s just so…so…close to thirty. Sure, it's only a number, but it's a terrible, stupid number that should be twice as feared as thirteen. I could round down to twenty when I was
twenty-five, because the basic principles of math are easy to ignore when they
don’t suit your needs, but twenty-six?
That’s boarding the train to Thirtyville, next stop Responsibilityhood, layover
in Metamuciltown.
Okay, so
twenty-six isn’t actually old in the scheme of things, but it can feel that way
sometimes. Many people may not know this, but single Mormon males age faster
than your average white protestant, much like dogs. It’s true. For example, in
Mormon years I am very close to being lit on fire and set adrift on an ice flow into the Arctic Ocean. Wait, maybe that’s the Eskimos. Or the Vikings.
Anyway, I’ve
decided to give twenty-six a chance. I mean really get to know it. Buy it
dinner, have awkward conversation. Maybe invite it back to my place to show it
my Magic: The Gathering card collection before it feigns a phone call and jumps
out of my second-story window.
“Third time this month. I’ve
really got to start buying stronger windows…”
And in order to
become at peace with twenty-six, I’ve done some introspection. Am I at a good
spot in my life? Have I grown as a person? Did I watch enough television?
Possibly too much? For this reason I’ve decided to let 16 year-old Nathan
interview me, 26 year-old Nathan. I don’t have time to think of a good set up
for how this could feasibly happen.
....................................................................................................................
16 Year-Old
Nathan: Dude, whatsup? Ha, nice hair.
26 Year-Old
Nathan: Hey, man. Not much. Nice Linkin Park shirt! *snicker*
16: What?
26: Nothing,
nothing. Anyway, you want to ask me stuff about the future you…the current me?
16: Yeah,
so…you’re a rock star by now, right?
26: No.
16: Professional
skateboarder?
26: No.
16: Dang…Are you
at least a bear wrestler?
26: No. I work in
public relations.
16: I don’t even
know what that means.
26: It’s a job
that allows you to write and do graphic design, two things you will realize later in life that
you really enjoy doing. It will not pay a whole lot, it does
not come with groupies, and it rarely requires you to wrestle bears.
16: …Oh. Okay.
So, umm do you still have the same friends?
26: No. I mean, I
still know all your current friends. I keep track of them through Facebook.
16: Facebook?
What’s that?
26: It’s like AOL
Instant Messenger, except more potent and injected straight into your veins.
16: Oh…kay.
26: Your old
friends will always be a part of your life. Friendships will change, though.
People come and go, except for Cameron. Cameron will always be there, and
according to my recent interview with 36 Year-Old Nathan, you will eventually
end up living in his basement, only coming out at night to drink his milk straight
from the carton while in your underpants.
16: I always
kinda figured that’s how it would be.
26: The new
friends you make in your twenties will be awesome, though. They will come to
your 26th birthday
party at Cracker Barrel and watch you drown your sorrows at the bottom of a
pile of pancakes.
16: I was hoping
I would still love pancakes.
26: Your love of
pancakes still borders on unnatural, yes.
16: So, am I
married by then?
26: Yes, you are
married. Married…to the streets!
16: Um…
26: Don’t hate
the player, hate the game.
16: Those are
just rap clichés. They don’t even answer my q-
26: Put your
hands in the air if you feel fine.
16: …
26: Okay, so I’m
not married, but that hasn’t exactly been high up on the ol’ list of things to
do. There are still several Zelda games I have yet to beat, and I still have
priorities.
16: Ah, well that’s
understandable. So from what I gather, you’ve got a job you enjoy, friends who
care about you, and you still have time to play video games?
26: Uhh, yes
that’s pretty much how it is.
16: So what the
heck are you griping about?
26: Excuse me?
16: You’ve got it
good! Why are you complaining?
26: Don’t you get
that tone with me, young man! I’ll call your father and tell him you’ve been
driving the Blazer to Birmingham and that’s why the gas tank is always empty!
16: Look, all I’m
saying is that life hasn’t turned out the way you planned it – wrestling bears
in an illegal underground bear wrestling ring while playing stadium arena rock
concerts on the weekends to sustain your bear wrestling habit. But it’s still a
good life.
....................................................................................................................
I hate it when I’m
right! Things are pretty good right now. I think I will actually enjoy twenty six. I’ll reassess my life when I’m thirty.
Thirty will require at least this many pancakes.
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