Its my wives birthday today. Thirty eight! I tell her this is when you start to pick up speed on your downward trajectory. She says she feels it in her… shins.
I also got engaged… eh… *counts on his fingers* eight years ago, yesterday. Top of the Empire State building in case you’re curious. I didn’t get down on one knee or anything… but it was a nice clear day and we were the first elevator up. Afterwards we meandered over the Brooklyn bridge and ate Pizza and drank root-beer at Grimaldi’s.
I’m not sure if the day you get engaged is one of those days you’re supposed to annualize in a celebratory manner. But when you have a mind like sieve, clustering these life events into a one-two combo makes me less like to forget. And therefore less likely to get into trouble.
In any event, this morning while we were having breakfast we reminisced (as one does) if this is where we saw ourselves eight years later, in the dread year of twenty twenty.
Eight years is certainly a long time to peer into the future. We were certainly more… what’s the word I’m looking for, unencumbered back then. And… spontaneous. Not that we would change anything, but goddamn children are a lot of work.
We watched Metric at the Radio City Music Hall, the next night. Lou Reed came out during the encore. And they sang some songs together. (including Velvet Undergrounds, Pale Blue Eyes).
‘We used to be soooo cool’, I say.
I’m less sure these days. Ha ha. The one glaring opportunity cost of breeding is that you can’t just do what you want anymore.
I suppose we all have to leave never-never-land sometime. Willingly or not.