Somethings are best said.

“Someday when we're dreaming, 

Deep in love, not a lot to say. 

Then we will try to remember 

The things we said today.”

Guys supposedly don’t listen. Okay, sometimes we don’t. Sue us.

But when we do, and when we think about what has been said between two people, we can be a lot deeper than most would suspect. I am not sure if it’s because it’s summer, or that it’s no longer winter up here in the Midwest, for some reason it does bring out long lost deep memories. I love going back in time; I am not sure if it’s because I know the outcome, wish I could change it, or just want to re-live it, but it brings about feelings that really make me feel whole again.

Whoa, and you thought we couldn’t go beyond the surface.

This coming weekend I will be getting together with my oldest friend; he’s actually slightly younger than I am, but he’s a person I have known (and kept in contact with) for the vast majority of my life. He gets me and vice-versa. He knows me because he has been there during the good times, rough times, and in between. 

It doesn’t take long for us to remember all the mischievous things we did together. Many of them were trivial, however many of them were just downright wrong. As a homeowner, I would be furious if I encountered what we did to friends and non-friend’s homes. (Eggs and toilet paper were a lot cheaper back then—-we knew it and took advantage of it.) 

But this coming weekend, we will likely be talking about his upcoming change in life. He is recently engaged; I was one of the early people to find out—-and I suspect we will talk about what life has in store for him including, taking on the role of a step-father, being married again,  and how the hell we both decided to do it all again after our first marriages went kaput?

What I am looking forward to the most is laughing and looking back on how far we have come (or have we?) and what we said, and experienced, all those years ago. We know the phrases, lines and meanings behind all these “ridiculous memories”—only we do, no one else would understand nor do we want them to. That’s what makes this friendship special—-by the way, my kids call him my “immature” friend and say the same about me! (Wise kids.)

I love this time of the year. With many summers behind me, I have a lot of thoughts to reflect on as I lie in bed, walk to work, or drive around town—I do not, however, recommend going to deep in thought when you are in traffic. It’s much better for lone highway trips when you can leave the world behind and  come back suddenly should a deer cross your path. Yes, it’s happened.

The photo above was taken a few months ago. I don’t remember how long its been, but many years ago I read the book, “Jonathan Livingston Seagull.” What I remember most from this book, and others that were written by the same author, were the words that told me it was perfectly fine to soar and reflect. Something I am sure we all want to do at times…it’s when we come to Earth, and feel the warmth of these memories when you realize you need to keep them as close to your heart as possible.

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All those years ago.

"Fat man sitting on a little stool,
Takes the money from my hand while his eyes take a walk all over you.
Hands me the ticket, smiles and whispers good luck,
Cuddle up angel, cuddle up my little dove
We'll ride down, baby, into this tunnel of love."

Something happened yesterday that made me think about when I went to 6-Flags outside of St. Louis, Missouri many, many years ago. It was probably when I hit the ripe age of 15, when my friends and I went there for a few reasons in no particular order; we went to spend a summer day amongst thousands of people, enjoy the rides, joke around, do pranks on one another, and meet girls. (This was long before smart phones or any of the new ways to connect with "anyone" from nearby or cross country were available.)

By the way, I was joking about it being in no particular order. I am sure you can figure out our reason for going and it was not to spend a day in the blistering heat of a St. Louis summer.

Fifteen was kind of a magical age for me. It was a time when I had lost weight, grew, and learned more about the opposite sex; I didn't know much, but thanks to my friends I learned more about it through their personal "supposed adventures." (I believe their knowledge came through older siblings who learned it through older siblings--in other words, we were all pretty naive and trusting  information we had no idea was true or not.)

As I prepared for writing this blog, I had to go far back and think about those days; I mean "very far back." It was fun to do, but also a bit scary as I still really don't understand a lot about the opposite sex. I should by now, but everyday I am reminded that if I believe I have an inkling of what's going on in their heads, I am wrong.
 

So there we were, and again this was a time when I had gone from a "husky" kid to a developing juvenile who had grown 5 inches in one year. With my confidence not at the level of my rising height, one of my friends started a conversation with a small group of girls. There were probably 5 of us, and 4 of them---in other words, if anything was going to move forward, one of us was going to feel left out. Back then it was a lot different than today when kids go out in groups, back then we would hold hands and with no phones to check, we actually paid attention to one another. I know, it's really hard to believe.

I don't remember the exact details, but I was number 4 and not the one left out; I'm sure it was a close call. I went on a ride with this new found friend by my side and I actually put my arm around her.! Whoa. It was when we got off the ride it was reconfirmed how little I knew about the other side---my friends had much better stories to tell.
 

So, here we are, all these years later, and my daughter who was pretty much my age when I went with friends to 6-Flags outside Chicago, did the same. I started to think (a very bad idea by the way) about why I went to with my friends. Thankfully, and I know this is true because our older daughter went with them, that any concerns were completely unwarranted. Whew.

The photo above was taken at our local carnival--there was no "fat man sitting on a little stool" but you can bet for sure, the next time she goes to 6-Flags, someone is coming along. The fat man known as "Dad."

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Life as we experience it.

“Found my heart and broke it here

Made friends and lost them through the years

And I've not seen the roaring fields in so long, I know I've grown

But I can't wait to go home.”

Going home is not what it once was; there used to be a time, not that long ago, where I could travel approximately 300 miles, drive down the drive way and walk in the back door. Those days are past me now as the home is no longer in our family and my parents now live in a cemetery 4 miles away. 

But I have found new ways to go back. 

As I approach 60 years of age, I still have to wonder how I got here? Where did the days of summer go? What days lie ahead? I don't think I will know until I get there, but I am getting caught up on some people’s lives.

This summer we are having a reunion of sorts in Colorado with a number of fraternity brothers; we have done this in the past, the last time was 2 years ago, this year more people will be showing up. Fortunately we have not lost anyone, but there have been spouses who have passed away. In other words, we are getting down to “it’s now or never.” Before this event however, I am going to visit with my best friend from high school. We have known each other obviously a long time and whereas I would like to say we have changed when we see one another, I can’t. We refuse to grow up. At least for the 72 or so hours when we see each other. 

Sure our lives have changed; we have both been married and seen them dissolve, we have experienced the pain of losing our mother’s to the same disgusting disease and have both have had many people come into our lives—-but we still can continue our conversation right where it left off. Might be years, months or weeks—but we remain connected.

Recently I have reconnected with others of who have not been in my life (or thoughts) for decades. That’s not meant to be a mean statement, it’s reality of what happens when life moves forward. Looking back is always interesting, it’s also a time to wonder about how much we have changed. Whether it’s looking back at photos from long ago, recalling our dreams and where we have landed or just saying, “to hell with it” I am who I am and I am going to deal with it!

The photo above was taken at our local carnival last month; it’s a yearly tradition I attend with my kids and always have my camera in hand. I love the lights, action and experience of being there. This year they had a ride that had captured my attention last year—but I never realized its name until this year. Just like life’s journey, this ride has two directions you can take…you can either deal with it, or…

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