Last Night On Earth

So here we are, the maybe end of it all. In two days we'll find out whether the Mayans were correct or that we humans are just too awesome to be wiped out. I'm not a doomsaying zealot, but I'm not ruling out the small possibility that the rug could be pulled out from under us on December 21st (which, technically, going by the original Mayan calendar, already happened, but come on, have some fun with it). I know a lot of people that live by the "better safe than sorry" motive, so why shouldn't we adopt that for this 2012 apocalypse? What if it does all end on Friday morning at 6:11 A.M.? Would you want some things to be left unsaid? Places left unseen?

                         Would you let DVDs you borrowed go unreturned, Amanda Funiciello?

Now, I'm not saying I'm going to get on the first flight to Belgium and spend my remaining days in Bruges. Hell, I'm probably going to spend my potentially last night on Earth doing what I normally do: wake up at noon, go online for two hours, apply for jobs, eat, maybe change out of comfy clothes, maybe not, try to write, give up on writing, eat more, and wait until 1:00 A.M. when 30 Rock is on WGN. I will be hanging out with friends Thursday night though, so if nothing else I'll have that, and that will be good enough. Sure, I could cram a few bucket list items into my schedule and tell people things that have gone unsaid, but that just wouldn't be me. If I'm going out, I'm going out as myself. Also, I'm kinda lazy, so whiskey and a fire with my friends will be perfectly fine.

                                              Wouldn't we all like to go out like this?

Now, as this may very well be my last blog post ever, thinking of what to write about was more difficult than ever. I decided on the 2012 thing 'cause if this is my last post, I didn't want it to be about my favorite TV shows or shit like that. This has got me thinking, though, about what kind of mark I'll leave in the unwritten history of the world once it all ends. I mean, I know it won't matter since everyone else will be gone too, but let's say our souls survive and are just floating around in the debris of the exploded planet, like when the Millennium Falcon came out of hyperdrive into what was left of Alderaan. Let's say there's a heaven and we go there with nothing but all the time in the universe to reflect on our lives. What will stand out about our lives? Will we be satisfied with what we've accomplished?

                                          Depends on your definition of "satisfied."

I have unfinished novels that were never published, a measly two dream roles I've performed, relationships never pursued, and never got to see how Breaking Bad ends. But I don't focus on those things. I think about all of the friends I've had, the things I have done, and those rare moments where I feel like I've selflessly made a difference in someone else's life. Honestly, despite not yet leaving my mark on the world, I have a pretty decent life I can look back on, and five blog posts I can be proud of.

Some people can get hooked on having the perfect "last time." In my experience it never mattered whether something was done perfectly for the final time, because however it happened it was still the end. My final show at Canisius College was far from perfect; I missed a blocking move in the swordfight and offset the entire remainder of the choreography. My last day and night in London were entirely uneventful, and more sad than anything else. My time in my last cross-country race was much slower than my average pace. And so many of my final farewells to friends have ranged from being awkward to far too casual. Things rarely go perfectly when you really want them to, and you may be surprised to find that perfection comes when you're not planning it. You want to know how I spent the last hours before my college graduation? I was hungover as shit and my roommate and I cooked some tater tots and ate them off of the tray for breakfast, then hit the road blasting '90's alternative music out the open windows of his car. The people stuck in traffic with us hated us so much. And you know what? That was a more perfect morning than I ever could have planned. I could've done without still being slightly drunk throughout most of the ceremony, but whatever, nothing's totally perfect. Except of course the HBO show The Wire.

                                                                  And this.

So in essence, no matter what you try to do to make your last day perfect, no matter how many things you cross off your bucket list, no matter how perfectly scheduled your itinerary is, those are not what your last memories should be. If you can look back on your life happily, whether you've fulfilled your dreams or not, then that's all you need. Like I said, if the world ends as I'm sitting up in bed watching late night episodes of 30 Rock, or reading the nearest Stephen King book, or even brainstorming what I'll do the next day to really iron out that book I'm trying to write, then I'll be dying as I lived.

Whether we all wake up Friday morning or not, I hope you can all live your "last day" like any other, as long as you're happy doing it.

Signing off,
Tyler

P.S. RIP Donnie Andrews, the REAL Omar Little.

Last Request:

Can there please be a reunion photoshoot for The Wire? That Freaks and Geeks one in Vanity Fair really got me nostalgic.