I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in the ocean. The leading memory being the Pacific while on my first honeymoon. Hawaii. It was while surfing off the coast of Maui in my mid-twenties that I vividly remember being consumed by the water in a sudden, overwhelming spin of a *cough* quite modest wave on a learner's beach. It was nothing, really, except a good old-fashioned wipeout. Upturned and smacked right in the face like a complete newbie.

Also consuming within that memory was the spinning experience of a new marriage. I remember thinking I'd look back at pictures of the trip for years to come. It made me think about being old; it made me contemplate one of the biggest decisions of my young life. And my mind wandered to its usual level of ridiculousness... with just a hint of premonition.

"I wonder where we'll live when we're wrinkly and looking back at these pictures of now. Will I remember driving this Jeep around the island listening to punk rock? If I have kids they'll probably think my hair was really dark. Will I remember these striped trees that look like candy? I may never be this skinny again. Did I make the right decision in marriage?"