Sometimes, Facebook proves invaluable. This weekend, for example, I saw that one of my old middle school friends had come into town, from Tampa, FL. Plus, I needed a drink. Put one and one together, and you get: Downtown Gulfport. Rooney's. The Quarter. Bacchus. Met up with John H. and Melva C. for a minor reunion.
Amazing what time, marriage, and kids can do to people. John was a chef in NOLA and FL for a few years. Now manages his father-in-law's legal practice. Has a three year old son. Fishes every chance he gets. And has probably lost three times as much weight as I did, when he stopped being a chef.
When last I saw Melva, she was a foot taller than me and I had no chance of taking her in a fair fight. These days, she's married to the owner of a local auto magazine (with several hundred thousand subscribers). And no longer taller or broader than me. Though, I probably still couldn't take her in a fair fight.
Things went along the normal lines of adult reunions. The usual dialog over a couple of drinks (I practiced excessive moderation!) in a loud Saturday night crowd. Bridging the gap between the modern 21st century and the chaos of the raging Eighties: What are you doing these days? How did you end up doing THAT? How long have y'all been together? How many kids? How old? Yeah, it is crazy tough being an adult and raising the next generation of hooligans!
Not sure when we'll meet again. Good to catch up. A brief trip back in time. When things were simpler. Enjoyed it while it lasted. Everything changes. Nothing changes. We're all still those awkward young rednecks inside, regardless of the weathered exteriors. Well. At least I'm still awkward. And uncomfortable. And unsure of what I want to be when I grow up. But. Too late now.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment