A time to reminisce, at least that's what winter is to me. A time to think back and remember the old times and to ponder the what-ifs of life. What if I'd done such-and-such instead? What if I'd gone there instead of the other place? What if I'd met so-and-so before what's-her-name?
I guess what prompts me to write about this was talking to Becky not to long ago. Well, that and turning 46 years old.
I'm not sure you know what I'm talking about. It's not that I wish my life had been different, it's just a curiosity about what if it had been different.
What might have happened, let's say, if Yvette hadn't taken off when I was so young? What if she and Max had stayed together? Or even stayed together until I were 12?
Would that have made a difference in my life? A significant difference?
How about if I hadn't been about to go to Cleveland State after high school? Or had to have dropped out a year earlier? I probably wouldn't have meet Becky at all. I might not have had to suffer the heartbreak, but I would have missed the love we shared.
If I'd dropped out and joined the Air Force a year earlier, I would have never met Angel. We would have never gotten married. Levi would never have been born. I would have probably never lived in England, or Dayton for that matter.
Obviously, Angel and would never have gotten divorced and never become the friends we are today.
Well, hell, if Yvette and Max would have stayed together, chances are I'd never have moved to Medina, never met Chrissy.
And never meeting Chrissy is hard to imagine.
Well, if that all had (or, rather, hadn't) happened, maybe I would have ended up a stamp collector.
Given the lack of other salable skills, I probably would of ended up being a high school English teacher. Don't get me wrong. I believe teachers are wonderful people and think English is a FINE subject to teach, but it's really hard to imagine myself being one.
I probably would of ended up marrying the wrong woman. I probably would have ended up with someone like Bambi, who would have starting cheating on me in less than a year.
She'd have gotten herself knocked up by some trucker she picked up at the bar she worked at. And I'd be stupid enough to believe the kid was mine.
Eventually even I couldn't be stupid enough not to know Bambi was the town whore. I would've started drinking too much. Started drinking Johnny Walker Black. Before too long, I'd be showing up to class drunk.
The final straw would be when some cheerleader would accuse me of making improper advances. Bingo! No job.
Bambi would leave me then. No job, no money.
Before you knew it, I'd be living in a cardboard box under the W.25th St. bridge.
DAMN! That would suck.