The Path is Still There, Class of 2020

During this time of staying at home more to combat the spread of COVID-19, we’re all a little starved for entertainment. So to the folks who recently discovered that their evening stroll would include a live comedy performance, you’re welcome.

The comedy occurred when a man, certainly lacking in grace but seemingly able-bodied, fell while performing the complex act of walking. I wish I could say it was while playing a sport, or running, or pushing through some 20-minute online workout called the Fat Burning Ab Blasting Glute Smasher, but no, I was walking. I wasn’t even trying to chew gum at the same time.

I was just walking. And then falling. And then, while still a bit dazed, thinking about the advice I would give this year’s high school and college graduates, perhaps through a glitchy Zoom teleconference in which every third word sounds like a combination of badly autotuned human voice and random guitar strumming.

I’ll get to that in a moment. But first, a few more details on my role as guy who fell on his face.

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I was walking along a cement path, enjoying the wooded scenery around me, when my wife pointed out something on our right. As I looked that way and veered slightly in that direction, my foot caught the edge of the raised path and my ankle twisted. In a moment of supreme awkwardness, I was transformed from casual walker to confused rock star stage-diving into the dirt.

When you’re 6-foot-2, it’s pretty much impossible to fall with any kind of subtlety, so I turned some heads. And yes, my wife was alarmed. But in what I see as a touching tribute to our quarter century together, she showed genuine concern before breaking into laughter. I was soon laughing, too, after wiping up the blood and locating a missing tooth.

Just kidding, I wasn’t injured. But I was indeed laughing, and that gets me to my advice for the Class of 2020, which is graduating into a world of …

Well, who really knows?

The future is always uncertain, but the Class of 2020 is getting a megadose of shoulder shrugs. I can’t help with that, but as they graduate into the unknown, I can offer three things I have learned during a life of successes, failures and occasional falls off cement pathways.

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First, it’s best to own up to your mistakes.

I know I’ve made some big ones. I mean, if I made a list – and I’m sure my three sons would be happy to help with that – my ownership of multiple “Jock Jams” CDs from the ’90s wouldn’t even crack the top 250. My attempt at do-it-yourself plumbing repair might not even be in the top 50. The important thing was that I learned from those mistakes, while also learning that nobody really believes or likes the person who claims to never make a mistake.

Second, if you’re true to who you are, you’ll be proud of it.

I was never the most popular kid in school. My hope of being the cool kid was about the same as NBA footnote Craig Ehlo’s hope of blocking Michael Jordan’s famous game-winning shot. Or, for those of you who aren’t sports fans, my likelihood for coolness was, and is, about as likely as seeing Mitch McConnell and Nancy Pelosi high-five over a Trump tweet.

 

But that’s fine. It’s best to not take yourself too seriously, and while some people strive to be the center of the universe, you don’t have to be a star to shine.

Finally, a positive attitude pays off.

I know that thinking positive can be difficult in these unprecedented times. A lot of people are hurting and many more are worried, and I can’t blame any graduate who feels cursed by bad timing. “Searching for the bright side” sounds cheesy, but well, I did say that I’ve never been cool. Also, if you look for the bright side, you’ll be the first to see the light that’s to come.

So Class of 2020 (imagine dramatic music here) …

Believe in yourself, believe in what you can do, and believe me when I say better times are ahead. The day will come when Covid-19 isn’t a constant scroll in our brains and “social distancing” again refers to the teenage strategy for avoiding parents in public spaces.

I understand your frustration, because it’s a tough time to be taking the next step on the path. But even in the best of times, that path is going to throw you a time or two – or three. It’s not about how many times you fall, it’s about how many times you get back up and find the path that’s right for you.

OK, I admit that last line was cheesy. But at least it’s true.

Congratulations on making it to the next step on the path. We’re all cheering you on, and eventually we’ll do it from less than six feet away.

Matt Wixon is the author of the novels 3 Seats from the Hero and Fourth Down in Texas. He's also the owner of many CDs far more embarrassing than the Jock Jams collection.