Amazement

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Un-Be-Freakin-Leivable!

In which our hero finds his mouth hanging open

[Friday, October 3rd, Gino's Pizza, Metamora, IL]

"The Amazon seems to be completely ageless (1). Plus her latest child resembles a cabbage patch kid (2)."

(1) Poor choice of words on my part. It's not that she's ageless like a rock or an ocean or something like that. That would be kinda creepy. More like she seems to be unaffected by the passage of 20 or so years. At least as far as appearance goes.

(2) This is completely true and requires no clarification except for those who don't get the reference. If this describes you, go look it up.

Healing

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Well, It Used To Be Sore....

Wherein our hero gets overly dramatic.

Saturday morning, October 4th, Sleep Inn and Suites, Washington, IL

"It's like a scab that has fallen off. There was a remembered wound. There was pain, injury, and then the event passed or ended. There is a lingering remnant the serves as a reminder while the healing goes on (1). Then that falls off, and all you have left is a scar. Whatever issues, whatever wounds, whatever unfinished business (be it real or imagined) that I was set to bring to this reunion seems to have evaporated (2). There is nothing left. None of the people, none of the physical structures. There is no perfectly preserved time capsule of events surrounding that time period (3). Aside from that cardboard box of stuff sitting on the bed in my hotel room (4). What was I expecting? Given, the weekend isn't over yet, and odd things do tend to happen but so far, things have gone in a predictable manner (5). Pinklady was right about the primary topic of conversation (6)."

(1) Overly dramatic for sure. Not totally inaccurate, but a bit much for the average taste, to be sure. Then again, I am a writer.

(2) This seems to have been annoyingly true. Aside from the fact that my memory has been proven to be wildly inaccurate regarding this period of time, very few of the players in the drama of my life were even there. And I just keep seeing that scene from 'Grosse Point Blank' in my head: 'There is no us'. That would be true regarding my high school days. Very very few super close friends, no opposite sex relationships, no long standing grudges or feuds (that I know about). There are a lot of other things missing as well, and without them (not counting Cromag), there's really not a lot to discuss with others at the reunion.

(3) Time has it's way with everything and everybody. I'm not the same as I was then (I can only hope), so why should I expect other people and things to be? As true as that is, the whole series of events left me a profound feeling of disconnection.

(4) Which generated very little interest.

(5) In fact, nothing even remotely odd happened, and things did indeed reel out in a predictable manner.

(6) And that would be kids.

Analysis

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Turn Your Head and Cough

In which our hero does something just to be part of the group.

[The quoted part that follows was originally written on the weekend I spent in Peoria attending my 20th high school reunion. I have retained the original text as written, adding in numerical annotations for things I had further thoughts on later.]

**Friday night, October 3rd, Mt Hawley Bowl, Peoria, IL**

"It would be safe to say that I no longer have any desire to smoke cigarettes (1). After opting to have one with Dimples (2), I found it didn't really do anything for me. As far as my ego went, it was nice to be able pick up a cigarette and have a few drags without doubling over in a fit of coughing (3). But I really have no idea why that would be important to me other that to allow me to fir in a bit better with groups that I don't really associate with anymore. I don't go out to the bars much any more, (4)"

(1) Or cigars, or anything else of that nature.

(2) It was a sight straight from the old days, me dashing out the door hot on Dimples' heels. Then, I became instantly aware and slightly embarrassed at what I was doing. So, to explain my sudden appearance at Dimples' side, I bummed a smoke. Since I wouldn't admit to her or anyone else that I wanted to talk to her by myself for a while, I instantly came up with a cover story. I had no idea what was in store for me on Saturday night.

(3) That really seems to say something about how desperate my need to fit in is, doesn't it?

(4) Not to mention that most bars and such in IL are smoke free now.

The whole thing was areally odd scene. All six of us were in the bar of a bowling alley, and at one point in time, three or four of us were having a rather lively discussion of the nature of faith, religion and God. This was even more interesting considering that that backgroud music to this discussion was, at one point, old Black Sabbath tunes. The Johns spent most of their time playing pool, and any time Cromag or I let the conversation lag, the ladies were quick to fill in the gap with stories from their combined past. The dinner we had prior to this was quite nice. Neat little Italian resturant called Rizzi's. I got a plate of tortellini roughly the size of a garbage can lid and about as deep as a wading pool with enough pasta in it to keep me fed for the next two calendar years. It was kinda hinky. Even without the capers, still kinda hinky.


*The redo of the studio floor is done, and more trash is set to hit the curb next week.

*This is like the bestest indian summer in a looooong time.

*MSD is now experiencing the full joy of home ownership.

*The Princess Cowgirl remains MIA.

*My long term memory is for shit. Period. Or should that be a comma?