"So, what are your plans after graduation?"
If you're wearing a cap and gown today you've probably been avoiding this question like syphilis for the past year, and chances are you're still trying to dodge it whenever it comes up.
"Next year? Oh, well, I'm uh ... Look! That dog has a puffy tail! Come here Puff Puff!"
I too used to do everything in my power to stay away from the dreaded question.
"Well, next year's kind of in question right now. The doctors say I only have eight months to live. ..."
And sometimes I just made stuff up. "I'm actually going to be an astronaut. Yeah I've been in this really advanced program. ..."
But recently I've come to embrace my situation and now I answer proudly, "I don't know. You?"
How did I get to this point of astounding clarity (or astounding stupidity, depending on how you look at it)? It was easy, really. I looked to the one group of people that always gets more questions about next year than anybody else on earth. The Boston Red Sox.
I think it's my new philosophy for life, actually. Anything I can't learn from the Red Sox, I don't really need to know. But anyway ...
The first thing I learned with my new philosophy is that nobody ever really knows what's going to happen next year anyway, so why should I? You can do absolutely everything in your power to have your life set for the next 12 months, and things still might not come out the way you want.
Look at the Red Sox. For the last 86 years they've been planning to win the World Series. Still hasn't happened. So I figure, who the hell needs a plan anyway? If it hasn't worked for them, why would it work for me? I think I'll try not having a plan for a while and see how things go. If they don't work out, maybe I'll make a plan. We'll see. Who has two thumbs and no plan? This guy.
The next stop on the Red Sox road to enlightenment brought me this little thought: next year is awesome. No matter how great or how awful this year was, next year can always be better. Listen to any fan at the end of any Red Sox season: "Just wait until next year."
What a terrific philosophy. This year was awesome, but hey, just wait until next year. Yes. Next year rules. I'm pumped now.
Of course, no matter how much next year kicks ass, not knowing what's going to happen next year is even better. In one of the finest pieces of Red Sox literature you're ever likely to read, fellow columnist Rodrigo de Haro wrote a column after Game Seven last semester comparing the plight of Boston fans to the Myth of Sisyphus. And since he's a lot smarter than I am, I'll let his words speak for themselves:
"As the rock begins to fall, time stops momentarily and a dreadful chill goes down your spine. You are outside yourself, and you are left alone with your thoughts. It is at this point, however, that the Red Sox fan is truly free. That moment of tragic epiphany, when the conscious realization of the absurdity of the situation sinks in, is in itself a triumph."
Well said, Rodrigo. I'd say we're just about at that moment of tragic epiphany, and I think you'll all agree that the absurdity of this situation is definitely starting to sink in. I have no idea what's gonna happen after I leave here, but maybe that's best. Maybe that's what living is all about. Maybe that's why next year is always the best year ever if you're a Red Sox fan - you really have no clue what might happen.
If there's one thing I've learned in these last few months of college, it's that things always happen that you'd never expect, and it makes no sense to spend all your time worrying about how everything's going to turn out. Things can always change. You can be down three runs in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and an 0-2 count and no hope at all and still end up winning on a David Ortiz walk off grand slam. Or you can be up by three runs in the seventh game of the ALCS and decide to leave Pedro in. The point is, you never know, so why worry?
But maybe the most important thing that we can learn from the Red Sox is that this season always ends too soon, so you better enjoy it while it lasts. Luckily, that was a lesson I learned a long time ago.
And there you have it. The Red Sox guide to the universe. Live it. Love it. It will take you far.
I wish I had more space and time to share more of my wisdom, but in the words of REO Speedwagon, I believe it's time for me to fly.
