My wife and I went on our first date 20 years ago today: July 4, 1999.
Twenty years: not even a glint in that young man’s eye then.
I was 27 years old, trying to figure out my place in the world.
OK, so now, I’m 47 years old, trying to figure out my place in the world.
I think I have a slightly better handle on it now.
(I want to grow up to be a media mogul. Finally decided on it.)
The wife and I were on a dolphin cruise this afternoon, and the thought came to my mind, wondering what I would tell that kid from 20 years ago, if time travel were a possibility, and thank god it’s not, because a dolphin cruise and time travel? There’s not enough Dramamine in the world.
“Hey, kid. I’m you, 20 years from now.”
“What happened to the hair?”
“It’s a choice.”
“Sure.”
Awkward pause.
“You look good for … you’re what, 47? Dang. So, I live to be 47.”
“You gain 100 pounds, then lose it again. Also, you run marathons.”
“No way! I hate running. Marathons?”
“Marathons. You end up running the New York Marathon.”
“I go to New York? The big city frightens me.”
“You love New York. You and that pretty girl there go to New York all the time.”
“She barely went with me on this date. Said she had something planned with a friend this weekend.”
“You get married in 2000. It works out. You guys start a business, and you make a good living. And, you have lots of dogs.”
“How many is lots?”
“Lots. Just leave it at that. Lots.”
“We run our own business, huh? OK. I like this.”
“That hat you’re wearing. ‘National Champions.’ UVA wins a national championship in basketball?”
“Yes! It was so much fun. You sit courtside behind Jim Nance for the championship game. Virginia win in overtime.”
“So, Pete Gillen finally …”
“Oh, no. Not Pete.”
“Not Pete?”
“Pete gets fired. A guy named Dave Leitao gets hired and fired. Then another guy named Tony Bennett …”
“The singer?”
“No. The basketball player from the Charlotte Hornets.”
“When?”
“I pretty much just got back from the Final Four.”
“Damn.”
“You end up writing a book about it that does real well. With Jerry Ratcliffe.”
“Jerry Ratcliffe? I end up working with Jerry Ratcliffe?”
“You designed a website for him, and you guys are business partners now.”
“I designed a website for him?”
“You end up designing websites for a living. And sportswriting. And on the side, you work for ESPN3.”
“There’s an ESPN3? I’m on TV?”
“Um, well, sorta, kinda. TV on the Internet.”
“Kids?”
“No. You have lots of dogs.”
“Huh.”
“You have a game room with a pool table.”
“Now, we’re talking.”
“It’s because you and that pretty girl right there fall in love. No way any of what happens happens if you guys don’t meet and fall in love.”
“What does she do?”
“You guys work together. She also works in suicide prevention. Oh, and I didn’t mention, but you’ll work for a few years in pro wrestling, and you’ll even write a wrestling pay-per-view.”
“I’m having a hard time processing all of this.”
“Understood.”
“And, hey, anyway, I probably need to get back. She’s going to think I stood her up. I was already late picking her up. She lives on top of Afton Mountain. You know how I am with mountains …”
“You never get over that. But yeah, get back. This is the start of what you’re supposed to be doing with your life. It only took you 27 years to figure it out.”
“You look old.”
“I never get carded anymore, no. Twenty years later, she still does. Consider yourself lucky, my man.”
Column by Chris Graham
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