Remembrance

Driving home this afternoon, I happened to hear the song "Don't Know What You've Got 'til it's Gone" by the 1980's hair band Cinderella. I smiled, remembering when I first heard that song: in the Fall of 9th Grade, and I loved that year. Now believe me, I'm not one of those guys who still wishes he was in high school. There is very little of it I would want to re-live, and some of it was close to hell. My 9th grade year, however, is a year I remember with great fondness because it gave me something that endures long after high school: Friendship. Duane and Chris were the guys I hung with that year. We met in the school band, where we all three played trumpet. We played hard that year-- in the classroom, on the football field, in parades, and in a competition in Myrtle Beach-- a week-long trip which has a story all its own. We also laughed hard that year. Oh my, did we laugh hard. When my grandfather died that Spring, I cried hard, and Duane and Chris consoled me, in the only way that 9th grade boys know how: they hugged me and made fun of people we knew until I cried with hilarity. We spent lots of time at each others' houses, sleeping over, eating junk food, prank calling our teachers (before caller ID came along and ruined such a fine art at which we were very skilled), watching movies, playing Nintendo, and talking deep into the night. We even occasionally attended church together, perhaps because their parents made it part of the deal when someone spent the night, or perhaps because we needed to assuage our consciences after a long night of trying to out-cuss each other-- though I'm not so sure that's a sin anyway. In any case, I think the reality is simply that we enjoyed each others' company. I've seen these two guys very little since graduation in 1992, but I've thought of them often. Here's to you, Duane and Chris. Thanks for the memories.