Bob Ray, who I worked with too many decades ago, turns up in my dreams periodically. I was and still am fond of him. He’s def cool – played sax (tenor? bari?) in a couple bands, drew and wrote comix, and had a good, solid head on his shoulders. We weren’t close but I would definitely consider him a friend versus acquaintance.
Is there an official line for that – a measurement system? How do you know when an acquaintanceship has grown into a friendship? Does a bell ring? Do you get gold stars? Does it happen after you’ve consumed X number of adult beverages together and exchanged X amount of discreet confidences? Voila! You’ve now crossed the border. Please don one of these lovely bracelets.
Another thing – I’ve never met his wife but, from the comments she’s made on his Facebook posts, she’s obviously fabola. Too bad they live 800 miles away – I’d love to meet her.
Why does Bob Ray keep turning up in Dream Land? How? What does he symbolize?
Usually, his dream appearances are as a warm, supportive presence. Ya know, if good vibes were palpable, this is what they’d look like. Bob Ray – fairy godfather.
In last night’s nocturnal movieola though, he magically appeared out of nowhere. Bob Ray was holding in his raised hand, a puzzle piece. It was a very important piece and it was glowing ever so slightly.WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!!!
It’s probably something simple and obvious and has nothing to do with Bob Ray himself. It’s just so damn mystifying though – the glowing puzzle piece; Bob holding it aloft in his fingers as though it were a Eucharist; the darkened, Gothic, stone-walled room. I mean WTAF!?
Related sort of – there’s my friend Craig. We were friends in high school and kept in light touch during college. After I graduated, came off the carnival road and moved to Boston, I briefly stayed with him. He introduced me to all his friends and helped me get situated in my new digs. Later, he and his wife moved out to California. I’ve only seen him once since then.
I miss him awfully. Craig’s an absolutely wonderful human. His laugh is like music. He deserves every good thing that life has to offer.
Craig’s not on social media at all. Can’t blame him but I’d like to at least have that slight, tenuous connection. Since I’m deaf I can’t just ring him up for a chat.
I’d text but:
- I don’t have his phone number.
- I’m terrible at chit chat – I’m more of a full-blown convo kind of a person.
- I don’t even know if he’d be open to texting and I don’t want to intrude.
- I’d write him a letter but he and his wife have moved and I don’t have their new address and I’m not sure how to find it.
Possibly this feeling of warmth is one-sided? I am, after all, a rather odd duck. Also, obvs, insecure. I could just find his new address, send a damn card saying “You’re awesome and I miss you” and be done with it. He doesn’t have to write back (though that’d be nice).
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
On the high shoes
Of the old friends
Old friends
Winter companions
The old men
Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city
Sifting through trees
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends
Can you imagine us
Years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy
Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear
~ Paul Simon
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