UnpleasantlySexy

My Nucular Family























I turn 30 in ten days...

...and I assume this is typical, but I have this nagging feeling that I should have more stuff figured out by now. I should own a house. I should be settled into a career. I should have 2 kids in every garage. I should have boxes full of such things as savings accounts, investments, and plans for the future.

Bah.

As a child prodigy of the Instant Gratification Era, I'm much more interested in the new Guitar Hero game than I am in any of that long-term-return stuff. I should probably be ashamed of that, but my Twinkie-cream-preservative-laden childlike brain has moved on already, and I have yet to feel like I'm missing out on anything.

I think that's what spooks me. I feel like I've done alright. I just trust that the stuff that needs to happen will happen when it's supposed to happen, and if it doesn't, it wasn't meant to be.

But...unless something changes, there will undoubtedly come a time, presumably around my mid-50s, during a several-hour holo-interactive, digi-virtual, cyber-videogaming session, that I'm going to blink myself out of a daze and let out a breathy, Keanu-Reeves-esque "Whoa..." as it dawns on me that I'm still supposed to do all of those "I should have..." items I listed above.

Then, Julia will look at me lovingly with her Google-brand Interweb eyeball implants. Her soothing, mechano-botic voice will say, "THERE IS NO CHANCE TO SURVIVE MAKE YOUR TIME" while she simultaneously writes Battlestar Galactica fan-fiction on her Mac in the other room using her subdermal neural transmitter. And I'll look over to our floor-to-ceiling refreezerator, filled to the top with Totino's pizzas and the next seven generations of Mitschke clone-babies, and I'll feel better about things – at least for the moment.

So...here's to the next fifty or sixty years, and the absurd amount of Diet Coke I'm gonna drink over that period of time. Happy birthday to me!