Milestones

This week I got to experience a life-changing thing:

I threw the bachelor party for my cousin Doug.

He's an old soul, so it was stripper-free. It might not have been stripper-free had he not requested a golf game followed by a cookout followed by many games of cornhole ("bags" to some people).

For those not familiar with the game, it's like horseshoes but better suited for drinking. The heavy rusted hunks of metal have been replaced with cloth sacks full of corn kernels and sewn shut, and the iron stakes in the ground are replaced with a plywood board with a 6" hole. It's very fun, and you get better at it the more you drink. Scientifically proven. We got very good that night.

Some old friends came out and we had a great reunion. Nothing debaucherous, nothing naughty, just catching up and enjoying each others' company.

This weekend I realized that my cousin - my best friend - is gone. He will forever be part of another half. He will be a fraction of a decision.

And he didn't go out with a bang, he went out with a nice night of togetherness and catching up with some food, some drinks, and some games. This may be the beginning of a new kind of fun: enjoyment for the rarity of reunion. Skip the madness - just enjoy the fact that you all could coordinate your lives to see each other.

I think I didn't pay enough attention when it was easy to get together with my friends. I see that now, and it will change the way I treat my time-tested comrades. After all, this feeling can only get worse...

crash.crunch.pop

I didn't think that watching cars crash into each other would make me fall in love, but it did.There on the rusted bleachers among the beer swilling, cotton candy eating, peanut crunching State Fair herd, I realized what I love about my country.

2,000 people descended upon the dirt track at 7:00pm to watch late 80s model cars in the twilight of their twilight be driven to their certain deaths by unqualified drivers dressed in jeans, t-shirts, and motorcycle helmets. The event was free. The prize for each of three heats was $50.

We all watched with pounding hearts and sporadic cheers as the cars raced backwards toward each other and met with a CRASH! CRUNCH! POP! (As a now-seasoned demolition derby fan, I should tell you that it is much smarter to charge into another car while driving in reverse. After all, if the contest is for the last car standing, why would you shove the front of your car - containing the engine - into another? It's a death sentence).

Our country houses the truest demonstrations of the basic, carnal nature of the human condition. How different is the dirt track at the State Fair from the Roman Coliseum? (Certainly more rules and regulations at the track. That, and they had a flatbed trailer, fire fighters, and an ambulance. I bet that would've been nice for the gladiators and chariots back in the day...) And how different were the neighborhood bike trails or the living room wrestling matches of my youth from the State Fair track?

The country may be in financial disarray, but I'm not worried. Well, maybe a little - but not AS worried as I'd be if the country suddenly didn't think this stuff was fun or exciting, or if the State Fair all of a sudden stopped putting events like this on.