I know I would have.

I know I came real close to doing that.

Ah, memories.

It’s 20 years on. And those nights of alcohol and cocaine-fueled dance parties followed by hours of anonymous sex have been replaced with chauffeuring children with more active social lives than you have and with TiVO’d episodes of AMERICAN IDOL. Living the high life on $200 a week is now a never ending stream of bills, mortgage payments and trips to Target for underwear and socks. Going to bed at 4:00 am and sleeping until the late afternoon suddenly becomes being up at 5:30 am to try to be ahead of all the other drivers who are on the road at the same time with the same brilliant idea.

We were once Gods.

I know I was. In the words of the country song, “I was 10 feet tall and bulletproof”. In college there was big money bet that I wouldn’t live to see 21. And I have always enjoyed a challenge. Having access to drugs, alcohol, free and available sex and loud music is not a good thing for anyone at that age. Totally too stupid to handle that sort of power. It is a miracle that a huge portion of that age demographic is not found more often naked and drooling after partying

themselves to the point of imbecility.

Now, aside from a night out at Chili’s, my social life is spending an hour and half having dinner with friends of my wife. People who are, I am sure, very nice. They are simply no one that I have a thing in common with and no real reason to make small talk over over-priced pate’ in the latest Thai-French fusion place that has opened.

I sit in my office with the door shut. My family outside. Occasionally scratching at it for something like zombies attempting entry into the mall in a George Romero film. The dog lies at my feet, my only friend in the pastoral purgatory that is suburban New Jersey.

Perhaps this “blog” will help me remember what it was like to be that young and invincible, being that I once was.

Before I end up another zombie in the mall.