When we were growing up, my brother and I weren’t allowed to eat
cereal with marshmallows. Every two weeks, Mom would take us to the
store, hand us a stack of coupons, and tell us to find cereal that
matched the coupons. Shuffling through the stack, I would always pick
out Froot Loops, Trix, and Fruity Pebbles, but my brother, ever the
cheapo, would make me take the cereal that had the highest dollar
savings on its corresponding coupon.
As a result, boxes and boxes of Life cereal traveled through my childhood. Damn you, Mikey!
After high school, I lived in college dorms and subsisted on cafeteria cereal which only ever seemed to include non-confrontational cereals like Raisin Bran and Corn Flakes. So when I moved into my first apartment during grad school, I purchased a box of Lucky Charms just because I could. It was delicious, but an hour later when I was both hungry and wiped out, I realized just why Mom had forbidden such sugary cereal.
But I think there was another reason for making sure we stayed off the junk cereal. Once when I was over at my cousin Leo’s house, I saw a box of Booberry cereal on the kitchen table. Booberry had blue nuggets and marshmallows that turned the milk blue and was therefore, awesome. I exclaimed, “Your mom lets you eat that?!?” Leo nodded proudly as I sank down in my chair. It just wasn’t fair, I thought.
Then Leo’s mom let him go to a KISS concert when he was 10. He became a skater punk who was harassed out of high school and later became one of our town’s first body piercers. But now, years later, cousin Leo is in prison for selling drugs to a local television personality who almost died.
Was it the Booberry cereal that led to his life of crime?
On the flip side, am I who I am because I didn’t eat Booberry cereal when I was a child?
But seriously, I have been thinking a lot lately about those small choices that seem to dictate destiny, especially when it comes to romance.
Recently, I thought about a man I dated during my first year of college. Our relationship only lasted my freshman year, during which time he proposed. There was no ring and we were both pretty tipsy for the event, so I didn’t take it seriously. Then, a few months later, he moved across the country to finish his degree and that was that. I wondered what had happened to him after he left.
Now, I am not one who keeps up with ex-boyfriends with any kind of regularity. After they dump me, and they usually do, I like to pretend that they’ve gone to Siberia where they have no access to modern technology.
Well I do have access to modern technology, and Google is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I typed in his name and BAM, there he was, the subject of a local newspaper story. He had earned degrees in his chosen field and was working for a terrific firm. But the focus of the news story was on people who had survived cancer. Diagnosed with a brain tumor, he had survived numerous surgeries and treatments only, seven years later, to be diagnosed with testicular cancer. I assume he survived that, too, since he keeps an updated Facebook page. He doesn’t appear to be married, and the article indicated that he had been cared for by family members.
Next, I looked up my high school boyfriend. He never proposed and, in fact, dumped me for someone else, but what if fate had intervened to keep us together? Another Google search revealed that he is also living far, far away, working in his chosen field. I couldn’t find out if he is still single; in fact, I couldn’t find any personal information on him at all, which I found sort of interesting. It’s as though he’s disappeared into the black hole of professional life.
I even Googled a boy whom I’d had a mad crush on in high school. Today, he’s a teacher like I am and is living in our hometown. What would have happened had I only managed to convince him of my very existence?
On the other hand, what would have happened to these young men had I stayed in their lives? As far as I can tell, their professional lives weren’t adversely affected by my absence.
Of course, such speculating assumes that romantic relationships affect life and career trajectories. And I suppose they do, I just haven’t had that experience. As I mentioned in a previous column, I always assumed that I would fold my life into someone else’s by getting married, but that situation never presented itself.
Such speculation also assumes that by changing one thing about my life, the rest of my life would have been dramatically different. If cousin Leo hadn’t eaten Booberry cereal every day of his young life, would he still be in prison? Probably. If I had pursued any of these fellas would I still be an English professor in Montana?
Who knows?
Nevertheless, I have decided to tempt fate. I bought a box of Booberry cereal.
It may not lead to a life of crime, but perhaps it will encourage me to keep plugging away at myself, always trying to improve, always re-examining, always moving forward.
As a result, boxes and boxes of Life cereal traveled through my childhood. Damn you, Mikey!
After high school, I lived in college dorms and subsisted on cafeteria cereal which only ever seemed to include non-confrontational cereals like Raisin Bran and Corn Flakes. So when I moved into my first apartment during grad school, I purchased a box of Lucky Charms just because I could. It was delicious, but an hour later when I was both hungry and wiped out, I realized just why Mom had forbidden such sugary cereal.
But I think there was another reason for making sure we stayed off the junk cereal. Once when I was over at my cousin Leo’s house, I saw a box of Booberry cereal on the kitchen table. Booberry had blue nuggets and marshmallows that turned the milk blue and was therefore, awesome. I exclaimed, “Your mom lets you eat that?!?” Leo nodded proudly as I sank down in my chair. It just wasn’t fair, I thought.
Then Leo’s mom let him go to a KISS concert when he was 10. He became a skater punk who was harassed out of high school and later became one of our town’s first body piercers. But now, years later, cousin Leo is in prison for selling drugs to a local television personality who almost died.
Was it the Booberry cereal that led to his life of crime?
On the flip side, am I who I am because I didn’t eat Booberry cereal when I was a child?
But seriously, I have been thinking a lot lately about those small choices that seem to dictate destiny, especially when it comes to romance.
Recently, I thought about a man I dated during my first year of college. Our relationship only lasted my freshman year, during which time he proposed. There was no ring and we were both pretty tipsy for the event, so I didn’t take it seriously. Then, a few months later, he moved across the country to finish his degree and that was that. I wondered what had happened to him after he left.
Now, I am not one who keeps up with ex-boyfriends with any kind of regularity. After they dump me, and they usually do, I like to pretend that they’ve gone to Siberia where they have no access to modern technology.
Well I do have access to modern technology, and Google is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I typed in his name and BAM, there he was, the subject of a local newspaper story. He had earned degrees in his chosen field and was working for a terrific firm. But the focus of the news story was on people who had survived cancer. Diagnosed with a brain tumor, he had survived numerous surgeries and treatments only, seven years later, to be diagnosed with testicular cancer. I assume he survived that, too, since he keeps an updated Facebook page. He doesn’t appear to be married, and the article indicated that he had been cared for by family members.
Next, I looked up my high school boyfriend. He never proposed and, in fact, dumped me for someone else, but what if fate had intervened to keep us together? Another Google search revealed that he is also living far, far away, working in his chosen field. I couldn’t find out if he is still single; in fact, I couldn’t find any personal information on him at all, which I found sort of interesting. It’s as though he’s disappeared into the black hole of professional life.
I even Googled a boy whom I’d had a mad crush on in high school. Today, he’s a teacher like I am and is living in our hometown. What would have happened had I only managed to convince him of my very existence?
On the other hand, what would have happened to these young men had I stayed in their lives? As far as I can tell, their professional lives weren’t adversely affected by my absence.
Of course, such speculating assumes that romantic relationships affect life and career trajectories. And I suppose they do, I just haven’t had that experience. As I mentioned in a previous column, I always assumed that I would fold my life into someone else’s by getting married, but that situation never presented itself.
Such speculation also assumes that by changing one thing about my life, the rest of my life would have been dramatically different. If cousin Leo hadn’t eaten Booberry cereal every day of his young life, would he still be in prison? Probably. If I had pursued any of these fellas would I still be an English professor in Montana?
Who knows?
Nevertheless, I have decided to tempt fate. I bought a box of Booberry cereal.
It may not lead to a life of crime, but perhaps it will encourage me to keep plugging away at myself, always trying to improve, always re-examining, always moving forward.
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