It finally happened.
After a decade of hoping, wishing, praying and lobbying, my dream has finally come true. "Boy Meets World" has been reborn, like a phoenix.
For those not in the know of all the latest "BMW" (best acronym ever) news, the old Disney classic sitcom has recently announced a revival as "Girl Meets World," which will be a pseudo-sequel centered around the life of Cory and Topanga's thirteen year-old daughter, who will be struggling with the same issues that her parents dealt with on broadcast television in the mid '90s. The old leads of Ben Savage and Danielle Fishel have both publicly signed on to play the roles of Cory and Topanga respectively, and the show will return to air in late 2013.
To be completely truthful, when I heard the news the Twitter heralds were trumpeting, I got excessively giddy. It was actually kind of embarrassing because in two seconds I had gone from searching for a distraction at work, to jumping up and down yelling at the top of my lungs "Feeney!" in honor of the original series' legendary teacher/life-coach/next-door-neighbor, George Feeney. Suffice to say, I got completely judged by the entire newsroom.
At the time, I couldn't explain why I got so excessively excited about a show sort of returning from my childhood. The person I was when I first started watching "Boy Meets World" is completely different than the person that will be not watching "Girl Meets World" (which isn't to say that I'm writing the show off as a failure without ever watching it, but rather that I don't own a television). The things I cared about and the issues I faced aren't the same anymore. I'm not concerned about getting a date to the seventh grade dance, and I'm not preoccupied with what to do about my older brother's antics. I also seriously doubt that I'll find any relatable material in "Girl Meets World," due not only to my age, but also my gender. But regardless of all of these detractions and distances, I still can't help but get a little bit excited about the show.
I never was the biggest "Boy Meets World" fan. I watched it whenever it was on, but I never scheduled my life around it. In fact, I was more of a "Brotherly Love" watcher (something I blame on my sister's infatuation with the Lawrence brothers). But "Boy Meets World" was still a part of my childhood. It was still something I watched on television and it still remains a name that I remember fondly.
For me, I guess my excitement really has its roots in anxiety. In one week, I will be done with my final fall semester.
Now there's only one required class, nine other fluff-esque hours, and one terrible month-long case of senioritis separating me from the real world, and that scares the crap out of me. In only six months, I will leave my hometown without the intention of coming back for the first time. No more mooching off of my parents' washer and dryer, or running into my kindly elderly neighbors from my childhood who still give me baked goods. In a blink of the eye, I will be gone and a chapter in my life will be closed.
I'm not completely dreading the real world, but that doesn't mean that I'm facing it without any form of apprehension. I know it's natural to be nervous about the unknown, but that doesn't automatically assuage my anxiety. For me, the prospect of having a bedrock from my childhood returning is comforting; it's a reminder of the days in which everything was figured out and planned for me.
Next year, when I'm teaching in the Mississippi Delta, I won't watch the live struggles of thirteen-year-old Riley Matthews, but that doesn't mean that the fact that those issues are being aired isn't a comfort to me.
Now if only they would bring back "Global Guts," I'm sure facing a high school class as a teacher would be easier than trying to conquer the Super Aggro Crag.
—Preston Peeden is a senior is history. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org