Friday, August 6, 2010

The Last Untucked Year

He must be 30...
I turned 29 yesterday, and as Lindsey declared years ago, that means the period from now until August 5th, 2010 for me is The Last Untucked Year. You might think this is some sort of metaphor for the last before I have to get my act together, but it isn't.

It literally means I have 364 more days before I have to start tucking my shirt in.

I've heard of bucket lists, but I had no idea any sort of 'before-30' lists existed. Apparently you also can't ask friends to help you move anymore, or have a bottle opener on your keychain. Sure enough, also recently posted a "Top Ten Things Men Shouldn't Do After 30" list. It's overly-general and rather uncreative, but sure enough, number 1 is "Stop dressing like a slob." If nothing else, my girlfriend is prescient.

Anyway, back to what this means for me. I have longish legs and a smallish torso: When I tuck in my shirt, I look and feel stupid. Will I feel any different a year from now? What if I don't? Will I feel stupid every day? Should I just get rid of my mirror?

I guess it's all part of falling in love, though. I mean, I relinquished control of my hair long ago, and I still haven't gotten used to how Lindsey likes it. But she clearly cares more than I do, and let's be honest: There are more important battles to fight.

Now I face a lifetime of shirt-tucking purgatory, which -- amongst other things -- means I can no longer get away with wearing my little brother's old high school football belt every day. It's daunting, and it makes me nervous every time I think about it.

So I just think about preseason quarterback rankings instead.

Friday Night Lights Season Finale Pick

Dillon (-14) vs. East Dillon (8:00 ET): I know it's a TV show, but come on, East Dillon couldn't even field a team a few weeks ago, and Luke Cafferty isn't playing. I hope I'm wrong, but I think the Panthers roll.