I seem to be in a reflective mood. Somewhat wistful, if you will. While I think part of the cause is that it is 3:40 AM and I am trying to repair a database connector for a client while really tired, I really think that mostly this comes from knowing Ross Allen Barton of all things. Dont get me wrong. I do not regret knowing Ross or anything silly like that. On the contrary, friends like him and Jeff Blackwell are stable and positive forces in anyones life and peoples lives are less for NOT knowing them. Here is the deal, though. Whenever I mention something to Ross on here, there is always a flood of genuinely nice people that respond to my posts, and they are people Ross has known for years because he grew up in Beech Grove. People from High School and even before. I think this is a good thing. This makes me reflect a bit on my own life, and perhaps become somewhat nostalgic. I grew up in the St. Louis area, in a little burg called Glen Carbon, Illinois. At that time, and probably still, the people from Glen Carbon went to Edwardsville High School. I had good friends that actually made an impact on my life. More than they probably realize. People like Will Smith(not the actor). He is the reason we call my son Bubby. Because Wills dad called him that. A girl named Lori Torrini that I was close to as we learned German together. We must have seen back to the future 10 times at the theater. I might be exaggerating, but not by much. We were as thick as thieves. People like the Moore twins. Marty and Wendy. Two of the nicest girls you would ever meet. The type of people that just made you a better person by being around you. While Will and Lori were two of my best friends in High School, I knew the Moore twins since grade school. I still remember in grade school when Marty got her contact lens misplaced in her eye and she was being brave, but still burst into tears while Mrs. Coffman helped her dig it out of her eye. I remember how bad I felt for her, and being beside myself because I could not help her. It is odd the things you remember at 4 in the morning. Anyway, I left the St. Louis area for Indianapolis in 1987 because a close friend, Robin Johnson, was killed in an accident, and one of my other friends, Chris McDonald, was murdered, and I probably did not handle this very well. Dad had gotten a job back in Indianapolis, and I just went with him and finished High School at Franklin Central. In my immaturity, I really did not say goodbye to anyone that I can remember. It is ironic that I get invited to all of the FC reunions by people I hardly knew, and not invited to Edwardsville reunions by people I grew up with. This is not a blame thing. It is just interesting how life works. I wonder if they even remember me? Even though I have friends all over this Continent, Brazil, England, Australia, and Germany from business dealings, sometimes I wonder what my childhood friends are doing. If they are on Facebook, even. I am sure the girls all have different names now as they were quality women when I was close to them, and I doubt that has changed. Will Smith is so common a name, that I could probably not find him very easily. Maybe, deep down, I am afraid of finding them. Perhaps afraid I have disappointed them, or even worse that they have no recollection of me. Will they read this post? Do they realize I remember them and the effect they had on my life? Doubtful on both questions. I guess I miss them sometimes. I find it interesting that even after 26 years of not communicating with them, if Marty, Wendy, Will, Lori, and even some others I am remembering needed anything, I would give them the shirt off my back if necessary. Well, it is now 4:20 and the database connector is still broken because I am unpacking my heart with words and am now even more tired. What does all this mean? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 09:48:00 +0000
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