Time in a Capsule

The other day my brother and I were watching Full House, which is absolutely no surprise to those who know us best. This daily watching was a one time occurrence about a year and a half ago that quickly became a tradition in the summer. In fact, it's a pretty easy tradition to keep up with considering I have every season from 1 to 8 on DVD. All 192 gloriously action-packed, effortlessly family-friendly, heart-warmingly classic episodes. To put it simply, I like the show. I like it a lot. So much so that I have a friend who calls it "Bethany House". It's gotten to the point where Bob Saget is not Bob Saget. He's Danny Tanner. Heck, he's Mr. T. Mary-Kate and Ashley aren't overly-dressed, sad-looking "fashion designers", they're still Michelle Tanner. But wait a second, I've just realized that this is not at all what this post is about. Sorry, but once I start talking about the Tanners, I just can't stop.

Anyway, the other day, we were watching an episode where you see little Danny and little Joey (via flashback) bury a time capsule. And then twenty years later (present time on the show) they dig it up and rediscover their baseball cap and insult joke book from ages before. And as I watched them and took it all in, it hit me. I want to construct a time capsule. But I'm not going to put a cap and a joke book it in. That would be weird.

Since this is my senior year of high school, I thought, "Perfect. Forget about going out with a bang. We're going out with a capsule." And not just any old capsule. Due to the fact that there are almost 100 people to account for (50 of which will be enthusiastic about it), that would take up an ungodly amount of space. Which would call for a big time capsule. Which would call for a big chunk of money. Which would not happen.

So then, with the help of my mom of course, I hit the jackpot. Figuratively. How about instead of having each person contribute something huge like a tuba or a beanbag chair to remember them by, we just revamp and revitalize the whole idea?

I'm talking, each person contributes a small sheet of paper that includes their name and one other thing: where they picture themselves ten years from that day. What are their hopes. Their dreams. Their career aspirations. Do they want four kids and a cat and a top-of-the-line minivan? Do they picture themselves on Broadway, in a faraway land, or still in high school? Would they like to be married to a certain person or, more importantly, have a certain kind of dog? Where will they live? What will they live in? Does that young man really plan on being as immature as he was all throughout high school? I could sit here and list ideas all day long.

But my point is that it would be absolutely incredible to do. It would be amazing to dig that thing up and bust that thing out during the tenth anniversary reunion of my high school class. We'd see who followed their plan to a "t". We'd see who failed miserably but still managed to have the highest salary of the bunch. We'd see that guy who was indeed just as immature as he was in high school. Man, we would see it all. And I think it would be great.

So that's what I'm going to do. It will making growing ten years older a little bit easier and a little bit more wanderfull.