You greet your friends at the Philly airport bar.
You’re all ready to fly down to Charleston for your buddy’s bachelor party.
You’ve left the responsibilities of life behind you. You’re well rested, worry free, and full of anticipation for what lies ahead.
You order a beer, talk logistics, and exchange mutual excitement with your boys.
Then you blink.
You find yourself sitting at gate D18 of the Charleston airport awaiting your flight back towards the land of responsibility.
The blur of a weekend that you just experienced went by way too fast. And you’re left feeling less healthy and less wealthy than you were on Thursday. The dopamine car that you’ve raced around for the past 50 hours has just come to a screeching halt.
The Splitwise and Venmo requests start rolling in. Your head hurts. You’d probably fail a biometric screening. You left your voice box with the live band the night before.
The notion sets in that this weekend you had circled on the calendar has come and gone. The Sunday Scaries take over.
But then a text comes through the group chat.
And then another one.
And then another one.
The flurry of texts are nothing of substance. But you soon become that guy in the airport looking at your phone, uncontrollably giggling at the banter from the group.
In that moment, you realize something.
The Bachelor Party isn’t actually over. And it definitely wasn’t all for nothing. You’ve accumulated “Memory Dividends” from the trip that will pay out for life. The payouts come in the form of:
The stories from the weekend.
The bonds that you formed.
The random people you met.
The crew that went down for Chris’ Bachelor Party in Charleston will never get together again in this same location with this same itinerary.
But we’re always going to share this experience with each other. And we’ll recapture the joy of the trip through each memory dividend that pays out.
Because going forward, every time I hear the songs “Texas Hold ‘Em” or “Murder on the Dancefloor,” my soul will be transported right back to King Street with this crew.
When I see the guys who were there, I’ll think about the quality time on our Air BnB roof deck and the dinner we shared at Stars.
I’ll randomly chuckle to myself about the storm that destroyed our lunch at Shem Creek and all of the inside jokes that we’ve accumulated over the weekend.
I’ll remember the late night heart to heart conversations. I see you, Brett Johnson.
I’ll cherish the long morning walk I took around Charleston with Snyd and Spins.
I’ll crave the chicken nuggets and twisted teas that Eric had ready for the crew when we returned to the Air BnB after a Friday night out.
I’ll learn a few things from Tony Slick’s initiative, Bunge’s unbridled enthusiasm, and Terence’s whole vibe.
I’ll thank Johnny for knowing exactly what to do when we got a flat tire on the way home from the airport.
And Chris, I’ll always appreciate having my brother who won’t ever go home until we’ve belted out Mr. Brightside.
As I write this, we’ve settled up our debts, overcome our hangovers, and mourned the ending of one of my favorite bachelor parties. Now, we’ll cash in on these stories and laughs for a long time.
Whether it’s your best friend’s bachelor party or something else that you invest a lot of time, money, and energy into- accept that it won’t last forever. But go all in anyway.
Because experiences that offer big memory dividends will never be a bad investment.
By the way, a big dividend payout is coming up at Chris and Katie’s wedding on April 6. This squad better come ready to reinvest!
Oh yeah…and I won’t forget this homecoming either. Thanks for letting Dad have this one!
The Janiec Reflection 