Turning of the Wheel

Hard to believe it's been over 25 years since John Schneider and Tom Wopat first rode together as the Dukes of Hazzard, isn't it? It seems like just yesterday I was jumping my bike off the “ramp” formed by a raised section of the sidewalk in front of my house, and shouting “yeeeeehaaawww!!!” at the top of my lungs. I also remember the year when, much to my father's chagrin, I refused to use the door when getting in and out of our car and instead hopped through the open window. I don't think it's a major spoiler for those who haven't seen last night's Smallville to say that it was great to see these two actors working together again. I won't give away any plot details but, for those who saw it, you'll know the little touches and homages that raised my nostalgia levels.

When I look back upon my life, many moments stand out vividly, and I'm often surprised when I realize precisely how much time has passed. Other moments are things I don't often think upon until something triggers the memory, and I'm back in another time and place. That's just the way the brain works. Life can be subdivided into general periods of time, a cycle of events that overlap once we have children and their wheel of events begins to turn. We're born, we play, we go to elementary school, then middle school, then high school, then college, and then we work at several jobs. At some point, if we're lucky, we get married and have children of our own. As they grow and begin the cycle where we were 20-30 years prior, we continue to work, then we retire, possibly have grandchildren, and finally die.

Births, graduations, weddings, and funerals are all landmarks, indicating the subdivisions of our life. When we're younger and going from school to school, these landmarks are closer together. From Kindergarten to fifth grade, my elementary school had been the place I'd spent the longest block of my life. Middle school was three years. High school, college, and my first job were each four year segments. Now I'm approaching the end of my sixth year at my current place of employment, and will soon top all previous records for routinely traveling to one place every day. I guess it's an inevitable part of adulthood that life takes on a certain sameness, that days blend into days. Last year at this time it was November 4th, and it will be next year and the year after that.

Life goes on, around and around. Last month began with a wedding. It ended with the death of a dear friend and mentor. When I read about my friend Curt's baby pool, I decided to take a guess. His wife wasn't due until November 12th, but I took a chance that history would repeat itself, and I chose November 4th at 7:23 PM, guessing a weight of 9 pounds. I awoke this morning to read the good news. Although I'd (typically)lost the pool by a day and several hours, the happy couple now had a healthy 10 pound son! I encourage any readers who haven't done so already to head over to his site and offer congratulations.

As it turns out, I had some facts wrong about that other baby anyway. He was born at 7:27 PM, after 12 hours of labor as his mom often reminds him, and he weighed 8 pounds 11 ounces. 31 years later he finds himself typing away at his computer, thinking about the patterns of our lives, the points where they intersect and meet, and how much existence we collectively experience. Of course, I almost didn't make it home tonight. Blindly making a left turn from a side street onto a main road, with the traffic light in my favor, my car was suddenly filled with flashing lights as the silence of the night was broken by the piercing wail of a siren. Disoriented, I slowed and cut to the right, checking my mirror to see where the lights were coming from. An emergency vehicle sped past me seconds after I’d narrowly gotten out of the way, and a ways up the road a crowd and a pair of ambulances were gathered in front of a restaurant. As I passed by, I saw a stretcher and paramedics huddled over someone lying on the pavement. All I saw were his shoes and the ends of his pant legs. I have no idea what happened, or what happened after I drove by. Whatever the outcome, another person experienced a landmark turning of the wheel. Right now, at this very second, someone is being born, someone is dying, someone is graduating, and someone is getting married.

That's life. Cherish every minute.