Jackson Free Press

I first heard the phrase "missing the window" in my youth. It quite possibly was gleaned from one summer's obsession with the movie "Space Camp." You know the one, right? Kids go to Space Camp, kids accidentally get launched into space, Kate Capshaw was the "real" astronaut on the flight? Yes, it was extremely reality-based. I just recently discovered the cute valley girl in the film is Kelly Preston—John Travolta's Scientologist wife. For some reason, the very fact that she didn't know she would later marry "Danny Zuko" and completely lose her mind is very amusing to me. I often point to the screen and snicker at her references to space aliens in the movie—she has obviously been groomed since the early '80s for this dubious transformation into Scientologist alien queen.

Anyway, at some point in the movie, the kids realize they will be forced to pilot that big space plane back to Earth. It turns out there are a finite number of "windows" in the Earth's atmosphere that allow the Space Shuttle to return and land in the correct spot. If one of these windows is "missed," you must wait a certain amount of time for the next available one. And, if the movie is to be believed, once one misses too many "windows," one could quite possibly run out of oxygen and die. (But only if you don't make it to the nearest space station for extra oxygen tanks.) Personally, I find this to be a fitting karmic end to being "special" enough to accidentally launch yourself into space, but I'm Italian like that.

I told you all this crap for one reason. See, I've got this theory. It's actually been a long-standing theory created in a fit of genius by me and a good friend. In our best calculations, we have decided that there seem to be a finite number of windows in a woman's life where the prospect of marriage is, well, palatable. Let me explain.

The first window of marriage opportunity opens right after graduation from college. It's somewhere around the age of 22. Sorority girls holding tight to their dreams of suburban life and the arms of their college boyfriends plan elaborate pink affairs and hope for the best. Most of these marriages end before the third window at 29, but I jump ahead. These "First Window" marriages are often facilitated by a deep belief in the southern female "time line": 1) Graduate from high school; 2) Find husband in college; 3) Graduate from college; 4) Marry selected man; 5) Have baby within two years. At least, that seems to be the plan I have witnessed in action. So the first major "marriage window" is centered on college graduation. It could be much earlier if trailers and shotguns are involved.

The second marriage window is trickier. Most of my friends agree that it floats somewhere in the vicinity of age 25. This is the age that is commonly referred to as "The Age of Desperation." It's the women who missed the first window due to unfortunate break-ups right at the end of college. The poor things. These are women wrapped in "I might end up alone" anxiety who simply seek to grab hold of the nearest ring with a man attached. Names, occupations and personality disorders are all optional. If a woman can make it over this speed bump without grabbing onto a sociopath and marrying him for all eternity, she might actually have a chance of a happy marriage. I know I spent this window simply drinking to ease the pain and questions at Thanksgiving. But I made it. And that's fabulous, because it is the third window that makes all the difference.

The third window opens somewhere around 28 or 29. Statistically, scientists have shown that marriages made after the age of 28 stand a significantly better chance of survival than marriages made at earlier ages. I think it's that whole "you now know your ass from a hole in the ground" stage that happens right about the same time. I also think the habitual drinking of margaritas in your late 20s helps. This is a good window in which to languish, delightfully. We sit safe in the knowledge that a relationship might work out … one day. Who cares? We've finally figured out how to do our hair and can afford nice heels. All those men who jumped through the First Window are finally free and looking for a good time. Then, one day this window starts to slide shut. There are two possible outcomes at this point. 1) Find a stick to prop it open while you desperately wedge yourself out; 2) Forget about the whole damn thing for a good five to 10 years and go back to the margaritas.

See, I'm standing at the cusp of the Third Window. And I don't know if I should be freaking out, or just sitting back and enjoying the margaritas. I'm leaning toward the margaritas. The choice is actually easier at this age because I live alone and own exclusive rights to my television remote. These rights are important to me. I also have rights over my own bathroom, my own bed and my own ideas about what I would like to do on Saturday mornings. Another oft-forgotten side effect of missing previous windows is the fact that one becomes more comfortable with being alone after passing each portal.

So here I sit, sipping a margarita, wondering about the Last Window. See, there is one subsequent window after the age of 30, but there's really no pinning it down. It can happen anytime between the ages of 30 to 45. Whenever the fancy strikes or whenever there are too many margaritas that happen too close to a beach and a man with too much money. But it's between these ages that women find out what they really want.

I'm just wondering if I should be concerned about the part where I run out of oxygen and die. You think La Cazuela has oxygen tanks?

Previous Comments

ID

73147

Comment

Hmm... Not quite seven more years remaining in my last window. Should I make my reservation for the nitrous oxide tanks?

Author

Ex

Date

2006-07-12T18:39:13-06:00

ID

73148

Comment

I'll be turning 28 on Friday, so this article struck me as oh so timely. Even though men seem to face a totally different situation in terms of "windows" (see also: Connery, Sean), which I can only assume will also begin to apply more often to women (see also: Moore, Demi) as our culture starts growing up. Cheers, TH

Author

Tom Head

Date

2006-07-12T19:44:52-06:00

ID

73149

Comment

This is the best article Ali has written in my opinion. Excellent writing, thoughful, insightful, inspiring, logical, hopeful, revealing, honest, touching, and powerful.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-07-13T09:18:14-06:00

ID

73150

Comment

I have seen all these windows opening and closing in the lives of women I am friends with. I'm now 35, and am thus contemporary with 4th window women. So brace yourself for what I'm about to say. The 4th window is not quite what you think. The 4th window is just the 2nd window revisited, with an exponential increase in potency due to the very, very loud ticking of the biological clock. Sorry. I wish it weren't true, but it absolutely is.

Author

GLB

Date

2006-07-13T10:29:24-06:00

ID

73151

Comment

"very loud ticking of the biological clock" ---I love you GLB. Maybe I'll have to wait and see how the 4th window works out for me and get back to you on that one...;) Ray-Thanks honey. This column actually came about because I had enough drinks one night to actually EXPLAIN this theory out loud, VERY LOUDLY, to someone...who then voiced that I should definitely write a column about it so it could be saved for all posterity. This theory is extremely scientific, if you can't tell. :)

Author

Lori G

Date

2006-07-13T11:07:54-06:00

ID

73152

Comment

I so wanted to be Kelly Preston in that movie with her eye shadow and gum. I do want to know what window I am? Or am I one of those black hole type deals? I need this information to advise all the first window girls who are now reorbiting.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-07-13T11:40:05-06:00

ID

73153

Comment

Cheers for the last window! I married for the first time at the age of 38...so the fourth window was good for me. I can't even being to tell you how glad I am that I didn't get married any earlier than I did. I loved being single and I love being married... I've had a good dose of both. In my opinion, there are much worse things than being alone...and one of them would be entering into a marriage with the wrong person.

Author

BKS

Date

2006-07-13T11:51:00-06:00

ID

73154

Comment

I love you too , Ali. If you weren't smarter than me, we might actually have a chance together. {:)

Author

GLB

Date

2006-07-13T12:37:14-06:00

ID

73155

Comment

I can say the same for many men who are post-30 -- a lot of us either don't know what we really want or are not comfortable with themselves until after 30. I certainly was that way. Great column, Ali. Just remember that your 30s are better emotionally than your 20s. Whatever traces of caring about the pressure to get married (or any other "this" or "that" as well) you happen to have will effectively die off in a few short years. Freedom begins at 30!!

Author

Philip

Date

2006-07-13T12:48:39-06:00

ID

73156

Comment

Well, I'm post 30, and I'm an absolute disaster. I am the hemlock in the single male herb garden. I think I make a pretty good friend, but I am a miserable, miserable love interest for any woman. Or for any man, for that matter. Anyone foolish enough to think I might be worth having should be instructed to run screaming away from me.

Author

GLB

Date

2006-07-13T13:42:10-06:00

ID

73157

Comment

GLB, are you sure I didn't date you? I recognize that description.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-07-13T14:35:46-06:00

ID

73158

Comment

If you are not currently in a straightjacket, then you didn't date me. But I think I probably have several lesser demons of my ilk wandering around town, and you may have gotten stuck with one of them.

Author

GLB

Date

2006-07-13T14:38:00-06:00

ID

73159

Comment

My, gosh, Ali! Do I ever miss you and Emily! Y'all gals are gonna be fine, man or no man. And that's the truth, to be swallowed with a dainty sip of margarita.

Author

Lynette Hanson

Date

2006-07-14T03:10:39-06:00

ID

73160

Comment

Geez, I'm 31.5. You mean to tell me I missed three windows already? Dang! Well, that's okay. I'm in no hurry. They say good things come to those who wait...and wait...and wait...

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2006-07-14T20:31:13-06:00