I got a text message last night stating that it was somewhat disappointing that after finally getting his spotlight on the blog, it was only about his hair…I reminded him that I also mentioned his wrinkles, but apparently that just didn’t matter one bit. So, I’ve decided to rectify that and give a little bit of background on everything I know about my friend, whom I have yet to name, but I’m certain his wife knows who I’m talking about…
No, just kidding. I’ve no interest in digging up old dirt, even if it is some of the juiciest dirt you’ll ever read… 😉
But it is an interesting concept, the fact that just seeing someone’s face, perhaps chatting for a few brief moments, can bring about a whole wealth of history that may not have been in the forefront of your mind for ages. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t think about my wayward friends. I think about them often. In fact, just spent a while last night trying to dig up a friend’s phone number to congratulate her on the birth of her first child. I was unsuccessful. But while doing so, I couldn’t help but think back to some of our last conversations together before our lives took over, conversations about the impending birth of my own child, about her upcoming (now long-past) nuptials, or, you know, any of the conversations that happened during the first 20 years of my life where she and I were around each other on a much more frequent basis.
Heck, whilst writing the post yesterday, I spent a fair amount of time remembering all the things I did with my former roommate during our rather short time spent living together. Well, and then we lived together again…yeah. There’s a lot of history there.
History…while yesterday I spoke about the effects of time on the body, today I can’t help but think about what it does to the mind. When I was last hanging out with these friends, of whom the two I’ve mentioned here are but a small amount of the friends I’d had along the way to my present spot in life, I was in a much different spot mentally, possibly due to the fact that I was much better rested, and much more capable of attacking the day with my less physically old body. But at the same time, I’ve now reached a point in my life where the sins of the youth, the things I did as a younger man, appeal today more out of a nostalgia for the past than they do true enjoyment.
That’s not to say that a night out on the town has lost all its charm. Just a couple months ago I had the opportunity to do so for a couple nights with a visiting friend. The issue, of course, as an older man, is that the next morning does not always work out as nicely.
Actually, now at my older, more refined (ha!) age, I find that the excitement more revolves around the actual presence of my friends than it does the activity. Just last night, in fact, I was rather excited to run into a couple old friends after my kids’ swimming lessons. Granted, the conversation didn’t get much deeper than standard greetings and niceties, it still warmed my heart to see them and be reminded of younger days.
The ‘sins of youth’ actually serve an interesting purpose to this old shut in of a man who writes random stupidities on his blog. They serve as an outlet of sorts. Just seeing my friends for a few minutes can bring back a whole wealth of reminders of exciting days long past (not to say my days today aren’t exciting. This morning I had an hour long meeting about what all my coworkers have been doing for their jobs!). All of a sudden, I’m flooded with memories of fun times with good friends, realizing that although we may never be able to relive them again, at least we had them.
And so, my friend that I highlighted yesterday, mostly because of his recently acquired old man highlights, realize that not only did I spend my time after we ran into each other thinking about how old the two of us had gotten, I also spent a great deal of time thinking about things like our New Year’s party and your cab service and playing tag at work and how our other roommate might have destroyed your vehicle (at least I’m pretty sure it was your car….old age does not lend well to a great memory, sometimes).
And all of you reading, don’t think he is nothing more than grey hair and wrinkles!
But seriously, old men live out their lives in the past…and I’ve found that I might be there…too old to try to relive these events in the present…too tired to be able to have as much fun if I tried.
Speaking of living in my brain, I’ve got some stories to make up (or…you know, edit, because that’s where I’m still stuck). I’ve got to get to work!
Have fun out there!