I remember when I was a kid, I would hear my parents tell stories about people they used to know. These weren't people that I ever knew - they were folks that they knew while they were acting, long before my sister and I were even a glimmer. Artists, musicians, models...and if I ever had met them, more than likely I was covered in
spit up at the time.
But I can
remember my father telling stories about all kinds of people. He talked about a guy he knew that was a talented writer. The guy wrote for Playboy magazine and was paid
handsomly. And the guy turned around and spent all his money on "dope" (in my parents world, dope is
smokeable,
shootable,
popable and
snortable). During this guy's dope heyday, all his teeth fell out and he lost the
terrific job writing for Playboy.
Not that all my dad's stories were doomsday-
esque. The one above was only told to me when a roach clip found its way into our house after a weekend party that my parents were unaware of. Seriously....not mine! The funny thing is, my friend that it belonged to is now a middle school teacher. Go figure.
But there were so many funny, interesting and
poignant stories that my parents shared with me and my sister. And they all began the same way...."you remember Carol? It was about 25 years ago..."
What the fuck??? At 16 years old, I could barely comprehend that I had had the same best friend for 7 years - 25 years?? Seriously?? People remember shit that long ago?? I used to think my parents were
sooooooo fricking old. And I told them so.
"25 years ago Dad? Really? Were there dinosaurs then? Really? How about photography? Or human flight? Ha, ha, ha, ha..."
Now it's 2009 and enter
FaceBook.
FaceBook is something that I joined a little more than a year ago so I could play
Scrabulous with my sister Britt in Crystal Lake. Here and there I would meet up with old friends that I had lost touch with, and it was an amazing blast from the past. However, something happened in December 2008. I really don't know why, but there was some kind of
FaceBook explosion. Suddenly I went from having my usual 35 friends to a whopping 110. I don't know if everyone got a new laptop for Christmas or what, but suddenly I was reconnecting with all kinds of folks.
Some of these people had pictures of me from high school and posted them online. It was amazing and kind of freaky to see pictures of myself that I had never seen before. But basically, the experience has been amazing. I have reconnected with friends all over the country. People like Amy, who now lives in New Jersey. I always thought she had the most beautiful hair and smile. And Val, who's laugh is one that no one will forget. There's Susan, who's charisma has always been unmatched, and of course Chris, who is still on the same page as me.
Maija...you're amazing and always have been. I wish we had never lost touch. Then there's Joe. Lionel Joseph....well....he knows where he fits in my heart.
Well, all these memories are at least 25 years old.
Sheesh! 25 years. How can I (we) be old enough to have 25 year old memories. Ladies, you are all still so beautiful. And guys....I can still see the boy that I knew so well in your faces.
Believe it or not, I am now older than my parents were when they told me all their old-
timey stories. It's impossible to fathom, really. I'm sure that there are lots of you that have children that keep your age in check ("Mom - you're old!"). I know I said it to my folks, but not having children kind of suspends me in an alternate reality. I really don't mind the alternate reality all that much, because in it, I don't age. But better yet, neither do any of you.
I think the world of you all. And you know who that is. And yes, the picture is me in 1983 before the Winter Ball. And it was 26 years ago. Ugh.
I don't like change. I never have and I never will. The picture to the right is what I have for breakfast every morning during the work week - pistachio nuts and a diet Pepsi. (Nutrition police, shut your collective pie holes). It will take me generally three days to eat a bowl this size. I LOVE pistachios, but they must be the natural colored ones. I don't understand why anyone would want to eat the red ones. Red fingers and lips are the only extra things you get from the red dye and I haven't found that to be a good look since the Powdered Jello Craze of 1976.
