The year of spaghetti strap tank tops, flavored lip gloss and $1 gasoline. Diet Coke added lime to their cans. Michael Jackson dangled a baby over a balcony and Nickleback ruled the Billboard.
So, yah -- a few regrettables, but altogether it was a good year. I was a senior in high school and graduation was around the corner. Our school newspaper published The Senior Edition, a tongue-in-cheek prequel to the yearbook. The graduating class voted for "Who's Who" in silly categories and anonymously submitted thoughts and jokes for a segment entitled "In 10 Years I See..."
The day that newspaper came out, I was probably rocking Mudd jeans and a Homecoming t-shirt, eating my daily breakfast of a Fudge Round and Diet Mountain Dw (how was I so skinny?).
The papers hit the stands after first period and the students devoured the material with nostalgic smiles. I snagged one and ran my finger down the page, searching for the segment I was most excited to read. I spotted my name a few rows from the top.
In 10 years, I see....
Mary Katherine Samples having great ideas and never following through.
Chances are I was the only person who read that one-liner and kept thinking about it. But I walked the halls of that school with raw feelings and a shattered ego. The sour fact was this: some person had met me, sized me up, and considered my teenage legacy a joke. A joke worth immortalizing in the school paper.
Years later....I stared at my son, fighting off tears, and wondered: What will my legacy be to this child?
His mom, the never-gonna-happen FBI agent? His mom, the unpublished author? The half-baked rock star who almost got on TV?