The future doesn’t have to be so dark
April 15, 1990
Sing it now, boys.
My future’s so bright, I gotta wear a coal miner’s hat and carry lanterns in both hands and it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to take some candles with either.
What can I say, the truth has no rhythm.
I know what you’re saying. You’re saying, “Why have such a bleak outlook, Dan?” (or whatever people call me these days) You’re saying, “Life is a steak that came from a secondhand cow. Sure it’s kinda tough and fatty in some spots, but you just have to chew a little harder when you get to those parts. And, of course, you do get your choice of potato and beverage.” OK, so I’m not quite sure about that last part.
Well, I say the future looks a little scary when it’s right in front of you. You get worried that everything you want isn’t going to turn out for the best. You’re not even sure if everything you want is everything you want.
One thing you are sure of is the things you don’t want to happen. Basically, I don’t think most guys want to end up like Fred Flintstone. I know one thing I don’t want is to spend the rest of my nights out bowling with Barney Rubble and Joe Rockhead, even if I do get to be the captain of the bowling team. And, on the same token, I don’t think most women want to spend the rest of their nights watching old Cary Granite movies with Betty Rubble while Pebbles and Bam-Bam play doctor somewhere in the background.
Also, I know I never want to end up a long distance dedication on Shadoe Stevens’ America’s Top 40, because when that happens I will know that I have finally hit bottom.
I’ll be on the same level with dead pets, recovering drug addicts, runaway teenagers, vacation lovers and women from trailer parks in Alabama named Lolita who have lost their husbands named Ed to a traveling sideshow due to Ed’s amazing talent for swallowing lawn mower blades.
By the way, is it my imagination or is the long-d dedication song always “Wind Beneath My Wings?” Believe me, when I’m wallowing in own, personal roach-infested, bottom-of-the-barrel hell, the last thing I want to hear is a Bette Midler song.
Another thing I never want to end up is working for a friend because that means the only reason why anyone would want to hire me is because I sat up with them one night when we were freshmen while they puked a river.
OK, so maybe I’m overreacting a bit. Maybe I shouldn’t be so worried about something I haven’t tried yet. Maybe life will be more like Richie Rich than the Flintstones. Maybe Shadoe Stevens will go bald.
I guess maybe everybody has a basic fear that they won’t leave their mark on the world, that when life is over, nobody will know they were there.
In college, it does seem like you’re important in your own little corner. You have a lot of friends and they’re all close by. But I don’t think in a thousand years history classes will tour the ruins of NIU like an ancient Mayan civilization, so no one will find the remains of what you are now.
But there is no reason you should have to start from scratch. Pretend life is the student center. Try to hold on to everything you’ve got, and start building from there. But, when it just starts to look good, don’t throw on ugly copper plating and slap on a red beacon.