I got a call the other day from my best friend from grade school. She said she had "exciting news."
She said she was getting married.
"Wicked," I thought, partially because that was the slang we used when we used to play MASH in my basement, and partially because "Seriously, what are you thinking?! Don't do it!" seemed harsh in the face of this "exciting news."
It's not that I'm entirely against marriage. I am, however, against incredibly hasty decisions.
I've been in two weddings in the last four years. Neither bride was old enough to consume alcohol legally at the wedding. Both had known their respective grooms for less than two years.
The similarities don't stop there, though.
It is actually my theory that there are three common ties for all weddings involving kids our age:
1) A white dress.
2) A mass of friends and relatives who are completely horrified, yet pretending - either though enormous smiles or enormous amounts of alcohol - that they are excited about the possibility of extremely young marriage.
3) A call to their best friend from grade school about six months into the marriage. "I didn't know it was going to be like this. This is hard," says the bride.
So, in retaliation, I am proposing the powers that be make it mandatory for all people seeking marriage to live together for at least a year before saying "I do."
I'm not saying that living together is entirely different than dating. Because living with someone is like dating. Assuming you date in a place piled with laundry and dirty dishes, and your dates never actually end - they just continue from one day to the next.
I just fail to see how a couple can truly understand what it's like to live together - let alone to join their lives together - without sharing the same space before they tie the knot.
My plan will be kind of like a waiting period for a handgun.
There will be no gun show loopholes, either. My plan doesn't call for shotgun weddings held in some abandoned warehouse in Kentucky.
There will be a religious loophole, though. (Already the religious groups on campus have their hate mail half composed.) I am not advocating a "life of sin." Two-bedroom apartments would also fulfill this matrimonial requirement. My plan doesn't look to ensure a fiery eternity for religious couples; it looks to ensure that people realize the heavy and life changing decision they are making.
See - and I can say this because I am both wise and incredibly condescending - kids at about 20 years of age don't know themselves entirely. We've got a long way to go, and between school, work, a social life and plans for the future, most kids our age don't necessarily see the long-term picture when making choices.
You know what? I take that back. When I think about it, I know a ton of people who have made all sorts of great decisions at 20.
There was the time that I decided to light a candle on a gas stove and burned the ends of my hair off.
Or the time a bunch of my buddies decided to put out cigarette butts on their arms to have matching scars. These are the same guys who decided skateboarding off the roof would be fun too.
Then there was the time I decided that I could drive 55 miles on a bone-dry tank of gas (or Monday, the day I fell in love with AAA, as I like to call it).
My point is that we're in our 20s. At 22, I'm impetuous. I'm rash. I'm shortsighted. At 26 I might be the same way, but I don't want my marriage to be another story that starts out, "I was young and stupid..."
