When I was in grade school, when my childhood home was constantly filled with kids running back and forth. There was a kid that came over to our house after school to do his studying.
His Father was an only parent, something that wasn't too common back then. He was a Japanese American kid, red, white and blue through and through. His Father wanted what was best for him of course and was what we would call strict, maybe even a helicopter type. He did not get home from work until a few hours after school and he had met my Mother through someone. Since I was the youngest of nine he trusted that his son would be safe and have a place to study. They only lived a few blocks away and he could get him on his way home from work.
Now this kid was a year older than I was and that was a huge difference at that time. I was playing games and doing things that strict parented kids did not get to do. It was a stroke of pure genius in hindsight though. Even though I didn't ask for much help from him his study habits hit home a bit and made me focus maybe just a little bit more. My bad habits and pure shenanigans also broke down some of his shyness barriers a bit I am sure as well.
We were in the same cub scout patrol for a bit, and I was always getting into trouble. If you have seen Dennis the Menace, that was surely me. My character changing by the minute, my emotions turned on full tilt at the drop of a hat. He was a good guy, and he was at least to me a friend. As always though in life things change and all of a sudden we were not needed any longer. He could take care of himself well enough to be at home alone.
A few years later in our teen years we got ahold of each other. I had gone off to full time smoker and stoner and talking about Rock and Roll. He had stayed with his education and was what we would describe as a stuffed shirt, uptight maybe, or just too disciplined for us cool kids. I had met through my paper route a kid not too far from us that was a Dentists son. He had a great charisma and eventually the two of them met and fathers met fathers to see what kind of an influence they would have on each other.
I was too different, too dumb really, and too poor to really be a part of that group. They were the ones that went to church and did things right still. They made plans and saved money, things that kids like me didn't know we could or even should do. Yes, they are both much better off than I am and own their own homes, or paying a mortgage. They have families with children and retirement plans to boot.
The other day I typed his name into Google and found out that he lives not to far from me. Actually they both don't live too far at all. This is what I think separates me from many, they had an impact on my life that I can recognize. I never really got the chance to tell them that I really was playing dumb more of the time than I should have. As a fat kid I felt I needed to keep the laughs at my expense rolling just to fit in. They are part of my memories and my curiosity as well, I think about others and I think about the parts of my life that people helped or influenced me.
I believe that the kid who studied at our house still works for the Public Library system, a job he must have had now for more than 30 years or thereabouts. I could write him a letter because I know his address but that would be intrusive to say the least. I was just thinking that with all of this writing I am seemingly having to do that maybe, just maybe my name will show up on his shelves one day.
I think that would be the best way to tell these people thank you. It is for certain that I carry a small part of them, and I would hope they carry a small part of me as well.
Old friends are just the way you left them, the wonder in our years apart fall to the wayside. Like kids playing all over again, our one victory over this troublesome dilemma called time. I will gladly take it.
His Father was an only parent, something that wasn't too common back then. He was a Japanese American kid, red, white and blue through and through. His Father wanted what was best for him of course and was what we would call strict, maybe even a helicopter type. He did not get home from work until a few hours after school and he had met my Mother through someone. Since I was the youngest of nine he trusted that his son would be safe and have a place to study. They only lived a few blocks away and he could get him on his way home from work.
Now this kid was a year older than I was and that was a huge difference at that time. I was playing games and doing things that strict parented kids did not get to do. It was a stroke of pure genius in hindsight though. Even though I didn't ask for much help from him his study habits hit home a bit and made me focus maybe just a little bit more. My bad habits and pure shenanigans also broke down some of his shyness barriers a bit I am sure as well.
We were in the same cub scout patrol for a bit, and I was always getting into trouble. If you have seen Dennis the Menace, that was surely me. My character changing by the minute, my emotions turned on full tilt at the drop of a hat. He was a good guy, and he was at least to me a friend. As always though in life things change and all of a sudden we were not needed any longer. He could take care of himself well enough to be at home alone.
A few years later in our teen years we got ahold of each other. I had gone off to full time smoker and stoner and talking about Rock and Roll. He had stayed with his education and was what we would describe as a stuffed shirt, uptight maybe, or just too disciplined for us cool kids. I had met through my paper route a kid not too far from us that was a Dentists son. He had a great charisma and eventually the two of them met and fathers met fathers to see what kind of an influence they would have on each other.
I was too different, too dumb really, and too poor to really be a part of that group. They were the ones that went to church and did things right still. They made plans and saved money, things that kids like me didn't know we could or even should do. Yes, they are both much better off than I am and own their own homes, or paying a mortgage. They have families with children and retirement plans to boot.
The other day I typed his name into Google and found out that he lives not to far from me. Actually they both don't live too far at all. This is what I think separates me from many, they had an impact on my life that I can recognize. I never really got the chance to tell them that I really was playing dumb more of the time than I should have. As a fat kid I felt I needed to keep the laughs at my expense rolling just to fit in. They are part of my memories and my curiosity as well, I think about others and I think about the parts of my life that people helped or influenced me.
I believe that the kid who studied at our house still works for the Public Library system, a job he must have had now for more than 30 years or thereabouts. I could write him a letter because I know his address but that would be intrusive to say the least. I was just thinking that with all of this writing I am seemingly having to do that maybe, just maybe my name will show up on his shelves one day.
I think that would be the best way to tell these people thank you. It is for certain that I carry a small part of them, and I would hope they carry a small part of me as well.
Old friends are just the way you left them, the wonder in our years apart fall to the wayside. Like kids playing all over again, our one victory over this troublesome dilemma called time. I will gladly take it.
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