Monday, Dec. 18, 2006 @ 4:43 p.m.
Dang it. Seriously, DANG IT. It's so unreasonably warm outside and I would so love to be out biking right now. Instead, I'm at work and lo, the weekend is over. Last weekend was about 200% better than the one before. My mouth is all healed up and instead of selling stuff I was Christmas shopping and baking with Kate. Good! All good! It was a good weekend. Now it's Monday and I'm a little sad because it really needs to be Sunday, Part II instead. There probably won't be another day like this until March, just watch. LORD, WHY.
Oh, the wistful sadness of it all. Those pictures are part of a series that Kenny and I took about a month ago when we both had Friday afternoon off and it was ridiculously warm, like today. Dang.
So, Google has once again shed light on what was probably best kept dark. I was just this morning chatting with my boss about how easy kids have it today - they don't need to stalk the object of their desire, they can just go on the Internet and find out all kinds of shit with the mere click of the button. Back in my day you had to wait around inconspiculously outside various college buildings to properly figure out the entire class schedule of the object of your affection. You had to go through the entire student directly by first name to figure out where he lived. You had to do drive bys on a bike in the middle of the night, for Christ sake. What? Just me? No way, I can't have been the only one who did that.
Anyway, I've been emailing recent with an old friend and we got to wondering about some of the weird guys we used to hang out with. There was one guy she dated who was a classic ne'er-do-well but loveable freak, the kind who was constantly busted for everything but somehow always got away with it. His nickname was Bagel, if you can believe that. He was the first (and only) person I've ever bailed out of jail.
Anyway, my friend wondered if he was still alive, and if so, where he was incarcerated. His real name is pretty common so I Googled it along with his nickname and BOOM. First hit - memorial website. He was still going by his nickname, which doesn't surprise me at all. He died in a car accident only a few months ago. He was 35. There were lots of condolence messages and old pictures, a few of which rocketed me right back to 1990. I hadn't really thought about him for ages and I'd forgotten what he looked like until I saw his photo, then I couldn't believe I'd ever forgotten. I'd have known him in a second. Anyway, it's just weird and sad the way people who've died are still alive to you until you find out otherwise.
How many great stories do you have? How many of them took place between the ages of 17 and 23? This guy is part of several of my best weird memories, like it or not. He shaved the back of my head for the first time. He and my friend and I waited outside 7-Eleven at 3am for the doughnut man so we could snag free stale doughnuts. (Gross, but free!) He helped me pick out my first pair of Docs. We were friends, weird or not, and he was part of one of the best times of my younger life. I'm sorry he's gone.