We knew each other waaaaaaay back in high school. He and I were on the gymnastics team. I, by the by, was spastic and awful and only on the team because my beau of the month talked me into it. I believe Chris and I were also in marching band together where, I *think*, he played trombone. //shrugs//I recall briefly necking with him on a bus home from some game or meet somewhere (possibly I'm having an episode of wishful remembrance?). Despite this conceivably fictional kissy face episode we were, most def, never a thing.
More’s the pity—he was nice and très handsome. All in all though, I can only bring vague, fuzzy but fond flashes of him to mind. The warmth of those memories is, undoubtedly, based on little more than his studly surfer boy looks. Character traits? I can't bring any, beyond general niceness, to mind.I did what a lot of folks with insatiable curiosity would do—I googled him. He still lives in that little Western Pennsylvania town. He’s also still handsome though no longer sporting the shaggy haired wave rider look.
I’d like to know more BUT would hate like hell to ruin this genial, foggy will-o'-the-wisp with something ugly—like, what if he’s a Trumpster? Seems ever so sadly possible. Western PA has more than it’s fair share of imbecilic, kamikaze brained, tiny dicked, morally bankrupt, right wing schmucks. Mind you, there are also a lot of brilliantly wonderful, giving, caring, smart, sensible folk there too. Which camp does Chris fall into? I’d like to know but mebbe not enough to contact him.
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| My faithful and intrepid cat companion |
Maybe I’ve a wish to return to a time of hope and dreams when all of I had to do was graduate high school, then college and then I’d be free, baby dolls, free...sort of, kind of. I would be free from harassment, violence and threats anyway. Free to live and paint in my own quiet, little room. Free to listen to the music I wanted to hear and read the books that sparked me up. Free to have cat companions. Free from the pressure to be someone I could never be.
OK, I’ve got all that already. Still, I need some motherfucking hope. I need to believe the horrifically greedheaded, abominably vile, racist and swindling cons will be voted out in November.
A note to meself, no one and nothing is a panacea. There’s no fairy tale cure for the pain these high priced, two bit charlatans are inflicting on the nation…the world. We can vote. We can help get the otherwise disenfranchised registered.
For today, mebbe a nice long walk on Nantasket would help? It couldn't hurt.
Every time I think about contacting someone from the past I hear Michael McDonald singing "he came from somewhere back in her long ago...." and I do something else until the feeling goes away.
ReplyDeleteI don't know the song but, yeah, good idea to find some distraction action. I think now's a grand time to go sit on the seawall – stare at some gulls and shit :-)
DeleteGood musical reference. Donna, this post shook out a few memories.I've learned that most of the time it's best to leave the past in the past.Keeping an eye on all the present may bring. Also, isn't your dad from PA? Seems he raised a pretty wonderful daughter. ♡♡♡, Rose
DeleteThank you Rose!
DeleteDaddy’s originally from upstate NY, just over the border from Vermont, BUT he’s lived in PA for 40 years.
I randomly think of folks from my past and wonder if I should contact them... always I opt not to, either out of lack of knowing what to say, or lack of the guts to do it. It's never for any good reason, anyway... often times it's an ex who stayed in my life longer than he should have. I finally had to tell him to stop talking to me, because spending years in love with him after we broke up was only made worse by his random every-few-months emails asking how I was doing, and mentioning some random nonsense that made him think fondly of me. I finally had to tell him we couldn't talk anymore when he emailed me last Spring, the day after he married someone else, to ask how I was. *le sigh*
ReplyDeleteOOF and OUCH,
DeleteI stopped sending "friend requests" to people I knew WAAAAAY back when after a string of them turned out to be right wing, christianist douche nozzles. Now, before I accept a request (or send one) I ask around.
As for old beaus, I'm friends with a few (which makes me SO mature!). In every instance time passing (years in 2 cases) was necessary before that was possible.
Good picture.
ReplyDeleteThe seagulls? Grazie.
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