Yesterday, I had lunch with Barry Jensen, Lori Brown, Peggy Dahnke, and one of Barry kids(the writer) at Mongollian Grill in Ann Arbor. It was a delightful afternoon(although my wife couldnt come). We told tales of growing up in South Lyon and of our lives since. Barry had a wealth of them from our younger days but I cant write them until Im sure the statute of limitations has expired. I realized that almost two years of homelessness couldnt get me into near as much trouble as one night with Barry when we were in high school. It was during our gabfest that we realized how lucky wed been growing up where we did. Our parents, for the most part, were setting down roots for a life for they and their children, instead of following a boot thirsty for travel. I know and knew my friends from South Lyon for most of my natural life and the length of my growing up. We were more worried about our parents finding out what we were doing than the police. We also KNEW our police force, they were of the community, shopped the same stores, drank at the same watering holes and also planting roots. When I was young, I wanted nothing more than to escape that one horse town for the big town. As I age, i and others, yearn to find my way home. That embrace of conformity that I disdained in my youth was the gift that I cherish now- a time where we could rebel safely. As we rejected those small town values it was the spurning of a true believer. They grounded us. Four of the five at the table had lived in California at one time and were both charmed and bewildered by the culture. It was very friendly out there as long as you had some value to the other person. Friendships could end quickly and quietly. The phone would cease to ring. Having no history or real heart. They could be nothing more than the massaging of the ego and as brief as an affair. If I have a debt to Facebook it is the chance to reach out and reconnect. To remember a shared time or life by the survivors. To keep old friends as more than a memory of time, a prisoner of location. I look back on those that have passed on and know that we cant help or save everyone in our lives. Some have demons, stronger than love, faith or family. Some have bad luck. Our parents werent perfect. The trials of life that we face were faced by those before us. I just marvel how they managed to keep us safe until we could wreck it on our own. It was an extrodinary task.
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 15:23:09 +0000
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