I’ve often asked others, “What does the future feel like?” And now it’s my turn to answer.
I’ll get back to that. First, let me set the scene.
It’s currently a few days away from October 22, 2012 and the Checkerboard Collective’s posting of their 30th issue. For this, my third contribution, I was told the theme would be “new”. Before that editorial edict, I had planned to write this entry about my old hockey cards. I had also planned to ignore something else that’s getting old. However, the one-week bump in the publishing schedule to accommodate all the “new” caused me consider another topic, one that seems extremely relevant now.
On October 22, 2012, like this blog, I turn 30.
To be honest, I have yet to thoroughly consider this milestone. Traditionally, I’ve never been into birthday hype. Back in the day, we used to have a small gathering at my house and watch a double-feature of “Dumb and Dumber” and the Cindy Crawford movie, “Fair Game”. Those parties were always fun, but it’s been a while since I’ve had a big event—except the time at university when, in an unrelated prank that happened to occur on the day, a girl’s dorm released a live pig into our hall. That was one to remember.
30 is a nice round number, though, and we usually like to make a fuss of those. And so we return to the question. “What does the future feel like?”
I usually ask that of my older friends on the occasion of their birthdays. With mine coming near the end of the calendar, especially, I’ve seen many of my peers reach the big three-oh before me. They’ve hit the milestone and can then look back and offer up their opinion on the matter. It seems to affect some more than others. At this point, I can only speculate on my own experience.
It, like every birthday, is uncharted waters. You only ever get one of each—unless you play tricks with the International Date Line—and then they’re gone, leaving you to struggle to remember exactly how old you are. By April or so, I find myself wondering if I was 28 or 29 this year.
The first time I considered “30” was on the first of this month, and even that was more of a, “Where did September go?” than an, “Oh geez, I turn 30 this month.” In the same way, I’m shocked by people born in the 90’s who can speak in full sentences and drive cars and stuff. How did we get here? Did I change that much, too?
The last date that really sets my life in stone was my wedding day, just over seven years ago. Kind of a lot’s happened since then, but everything between seems to blend in. Will 30 be the same or different? What will happen to me? I have a sneaky feeling 30 might be the same as, say, 24 with fancier cards.
I don’t expect any life-changing revelations or personal eureka moments. I’ll sit down for a nice dinner with some family and friends. Then, like the Checkerboard Collective, I’ll continue to age and grow toward new special numbers. 31, I hear from someone very close to me, isn’t too shabby, either.
At some point on Monday, I’ll probably ask myself what the future feels like. And when I find out, I’ll let you know. If it’s anything like the last 29 years, it’ll be pretty sweet.