The Newcott Scoop: We’re here to party
Editor’s note: This is the debut of multimedia reporter Zach Newcott’s column in Living. His column will publish weekly.
If it’s fashionable to be late, then I am like the “Crocs shoes” of punctuality. It might have been fashionable at some point, but that point was long, long ago, and now I’m not sure if my arrival will ever be fashionable again.
I continually wage war against the clock, much like when I was a small child and would slap back at waves in the ocean, or nowadays, when I attempt to properly fold a fitted sheet. It’s hopeless.
So imagine my surprise when I discovered our family car was the first to arrive at our friend’s graduation party.
“This can’t be right,” I said, as I peered through the windshield.
“Let me check,” my wife Beth said from behind me as our infant son, Shiloh, cooed from his car seat.
Certain that there was no way our family was actually on time for a special occasion, I quickly pulled our car away from the driveway and drove a loop around the neighborhood.
I saw a look of shock on Beth’s face as I glanced into the rearview.
“We’re on time…” She whispered.
In my mind this meant two things: not only were we on schedule, but we were actually the first to arrive. The only thing that could have made this moment more rare and exceptional was if at that very moment a shooting star streaked across the sky.
“We shall now reap the rewards of our punctual arrival,” I said in satisfaction, “In the feasting of sweet, sweet graduation day cake.”
Upon knocking at the door we were greeted with surprised looks by our friend and his family.
“Surprised to see us so soon??” I said with a wink. “Happy BFA day!”
Thankfully, I was ignored as Shiloh received doting “awws” from our friend’s parents.
While he was being passed from person to person, I distracted myself by taking in the rather odd choice in party decor. They must have wanted to keep things casual, as there wasn’t a single balloon, congratulations banner, or miniature party horse in sight. Further, the darkness of the kitchen indicated that there was no evidence of a graduation cake having been baked.
This concerned me.
“I just can’t get enough of these cute chubby cheeks!” Our friend’s mother squealed as she held up Shiloh.
“He loves eating, just like his old man!” I laughed. “Speaking of eating, ordering in tonight?”
“Oh no,” She said, still focused on the baby. “We ate earlier.”
As I questioned whether or not we were told to bring something to this apparent pot-luck, I kicked myself for not always having a tray of pizza bagels in the trunk of my car at all times. I told Beth something like this would happen one day, but she didn’t listen. “Don’t you know the song? When pizza’s on a bagel… Beth,” I said to her, “You can eat pizza any time.”
As we pleasantly chatted, I noticed that the rest of the party guests had went well past what’s acceptable as fashionably late, and ventured into “Crocs shoes” territory.
“Well,” our friend said with a yawn as he stood up to stretch and look at his watch. “I’m going to head out to meet up with some people.”
“Oh, is this party moving?” I asked.
“No, it’s just a casual get together.” He said. “But you should come back here tomorrow.”
I looked back to him confused.
“Tomorrow,” he emphasized, “When we’re having my graduation party. My party, which is tomorrow.”
“Oh,” I nodded with a casual smile. “The day after today… Everything makes a lot of sense now.”
Suddenly all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. The missing cake, the lack of any party guests, being told directly that the party is tomorrow, I could see it all so clearly. All the evidence pointed to Beth and I having been living one day ahead in the future this entire time.Some days you arrive late, other days you arrive 24 hours too early. Thankfully, it seems that having a cute baby works as an automatic invitation to anyone’s home and a perfectly fine excuse to socialize with friends. After all, a good friend is one that always opens the door with a smile and open arms. All in all, it was a perfect evening, and as far as I’m concerned, a successful party. Real shame we ended up being late the next day though …
Zachary Newcott is a Multimedia Reporter for the Visalia Times-Delta/Tulare Advance-Register. See original post here.