Fifteen year blink

Last time I checked, I was 21. The world was my oyster, my puppet. And I the master. I've played puppet master many times since the day I woke up to be 21. The day I could legally drink. A right of passage I still don't understand. I had less fun drinking that night that I think I ever did. It wasn't the people I was with (although only one name of all the people there sticks in my mind. Allen.) Or was it something else? Night after night drinking cases of beer the summer I turned 21. Busch Light Draft. 24 cans. 7 bucks. The feeling of unbridled energy. Being able to work a full day on 2 hours of drunken sleep. The easy laughter. The practical jokes.

I remember turning 25. Six Thousand Two Hundred and Twelve miles from home. Still drunk. Enough for a blackout. I remember the girl too. After the blackout. I've had many visions of perfection in my life. They were all different. They all were perfect for the moment they happened. Walking home the next morning with my shirt untucked. My eyes burning in the sun. A wry grin on my face. The smoke from the trash fires climbing into the pale blue sky. Far off black haired asian children squealing in delight at their play. Dogs chasing each other through the grimy streets. Nothing was new. Except the day. Simple perfection that day.

26 guess what? Yep, drunk again. 4623 miles from home this time. Berlin, GE. The day before my Birthday I slept in a Volkswagon Golf with 3 other guys. I have photos to prove it. That day I saw a Christo artwork live in person. HE wrapped the Reichstag (the seat of the German Parliament). A fan since childhood I was awed. The scale simply unbelievable. The royal blue rope will never leave my mind. Nor will seeing what was left of the Berlin Wall. Touching that rock that symbolized repression for so many years. Walking away with vigor and sadness in my steps.

Thirty-one came with the rocket's red glare. And nearly an hour of fireworks in the backyard that awed the neighborhood children. A $2,000 party I'll probably never see the likes of again. BBQ, fried chicken, slaw, mashed potatoes, biscuits, beer, wine, tequila, whiskey, 30 friends and cigars with a pretty girl I never kissed. They all flowed. Melded. Blended. Laughed. Told stories. Lied. Laughed some more. Red, white and blue decorations from the front step to the rear of the yard out back. I was safe. I was comfortable. I hadn't a care in the world. I'd become the master at throwing parties. The right blend of people. The right mix of personalities to make it interesting for everyone. The fireworks. They still dance in my eyes.

Birthdays are no longer milestones for me. The milestones are the people and the places. The pond in the park in Augsburg, Germany. Taking that pathological liars photograph. Some of the best portraits I've ever shot. I wanted her until I found out I could have her. Then her appeal dried up like the core of a old gnawed plum. Magical places filled with sounds I didn't understand and people I didn't want to know. The Gasthaus in Oberammagau where lunch turned into dinner with 5 friends of whom I remember two. Somewhere, I may even still have those hand-carved wooden monkeys. Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. Standing in front of the Vietnam Memorial and knowing nothing else would ever affect me that way. Years later standing at Ground Zero in Sept. 2002 and knowing I was wrong.

See, I really didn't blink. I didn't miss a day. 15 years. Almost. I have a curious spring in my step and grin on my face that won't seem to fade. I linger in my mind less than I used to and think more when I'm there. I mean it when I say thank you. I learned how to say I'm sorry. Compliments are sincere. Gifts are rare. People surround us, but they are rare too. Cherish the moments. Cherish the time. It doesn't change. You do. You really didn't think it took me 15 years to blink did you?