We had a lovely time chatting and drinking beer and I got to, in the time-honored role of friendly uncle, buy the kids dinner and then, at the urging of Jen, who tends to be a much better host than me, make them all a big home-cooked breakfast, potatoes and eggs and lots of coffee, before bidding them fond farewell and happy trails on the remainder of their journey.
Sweet, funny, and kind young people, one and all, and now I’m feeling a twinge of nostalgia for those times in my own life where I might have been inclined to crisscross the nation with my buddies on a creative project just to see what was out there and what might happen if we looked.
I found their exuberance quite heartwarming, too. The world, as a whole, may be going to hell in a handbasket, but at least some of the generation along for that ride are trying out whatever they can to make it interesting.
I know this, of course, from the students I work with, but something about seeing it in my own house, rather than the classroom, and with a young man who shares my genetic blueprint, made it more obvious, or at least touching.
And my feelings are probably also informed by the fact that yesterday marked the 21st anniversary of my wedding day; as I never tired of saying all day long, if my marriage to Jen were a person, it would now be old enough to drink!
But I’m resolved not to let that make me feel decrepit; heck, if our marriage was an art student, it would be perfect time for a road trip!