Meeting 1993 me

I wonder what 18-year-old me would think of….me.

June 1993, I walked away from Fontana High School for one last time.  We just returned from grad night at Disneyland.  Graduating Seniors had the park to themselves from eleven at night to about five in the morning.  I was still wearing my tie, because all young men had to wear suits to grad night and Disneyland to avoid gang conflicts.  The bus ride home from the theme park was brutal.  We were exhausted.  I had to be at Dairy Queen to work at 10 am.  My nap on the bus was going to have to hold me over.  Well, the nap and the free soft drinks that came with working at a fast food restaurant. 

But what if I didn’t have to go make blizzards that day?  What if I jumped forward to today and walked into my front door and met 2017 me? 

1993 me was starting summer quarter at Cal Poly Pomona in a week.  My plans after High School included studying Pre-veterinary medicine, going on a mission for my church, getting married, getting a Veterinary medicine degree, moving to Colorado and raising six kids while hunting, fishing, and hiking during my time off.  1993 me wanted to live in the mountains and have several dogs.  I figured I’d look like Mark Harmon or Sam Elliott when I was 40.  I hoped my wife would be outdoorsy too.    

So what would that me think of now-me?  What would he say? 

Well, there would probably be some discussion about how fat I am.  In fact I think younger me would probably threaten older me about getting into shape.  I think younger me would love my garage and my house and the mountain I live by.  I think younger me would highly approve of Emily.  I’d probably have to threaten younger me to quit checking her out.  Younger me would wonder why we only had three kids, and why I didn’t get a Doctorate.  He would wonder why I’m still fixing appliances and not kicking off my next business venture.  I don’t think he would be very happy with where my business ended up.  I think he would absolutely love seeing all the cool places I’ve been able to hike and backpack over the years.

Younger me would be stoked that older me speaks Russian.  He would think that is the coolest thing ever.  He would be disappointed that I haven’t been back to the Ukraine.  Younger me would love my dog. (we didn’t have a dog for very long growing up because my brother was allergic).  Younger me would want to wrestle with older-me’s kids.  Because, who wouldn’t want a chance to get to do that on an even playing field?  And younger me would also want to go down to the track and race my kids too.

But, I wonder who would benefit more from the conversation?  Younger me learning from older me, or older me getting back in tune with younger me. 

But at the end of the day I don’t think either of us would change a thing.  I’ve got a pretty great life. After I took younger me on a tour and resisted the temptation to print off a list of companies that did well over the past 20 years, older me would tell younger me to get to Dairy Queen and start my shift.  Younger me would forbid older me from ever visiting Dairy Queen again.