The first time I went to Disneyworld was when I was in elementary school. My parents took my sister and me out of school for a numbers of days for the road trip, park visits, and additional stops along the way. I don’t remember anything about the trip driving down I-95 southbound for Orlando. But, I do remember going to St. Augustine, Florida to visit the Fountain of Youth. Like all other visitors, we drank with the hopes of staying young.
It seems that in the past several months I have been hoping that this Fountain of Youth thing really works.
I have played golf with my best friend from high school twice this summer. He knows me. He knew me at 12 years old. We lived together during Freshmen year. We did the beach thing as teen-aged boys. We were very good at baseball, fair at football, and pretty much sucked when it came to going along with the crowd. I invited him to youth church camp. He ran over me with a motorcycle. We both played guitar and we finally learned to sing and played simultaneously. I still remember the first song I sang while he played,…the classic rock ballad from Night Ranger called “Goodbye.”
"Yet it's hard/Living life on this memory-go-round/Always up, always down/Turning 'round and 'round and 'round/And all this could be/Just a dream so it seems/I was never much good at goodbye."
The walls of Burkot Hall 114 begged us to stop until our first floor fan club came to offer their own harmony and humor.
On one particular gift-giving occasion, I gave him a Bible. But before giving it to him, I highlighted Philippians 1.3, “I thank my God every time I remember you.” This was sort of a promise I wanted to make to him. And it’s still true. I thank God to have had such a friend. I thank God even more that I still have him as a friend. I thank God because every memory of him makes me feel 13 all over again.
So, in the last weeks, we’ve played golf. We talked. We laughed a lot. And yeah, we cussed a lot too. It’s what we did when we were 13, so it certainly can work when we’re 34.
No one likes to say “goodbye” to their youth. But, life’s not a dream. Life is real. Life is two nostalgic guys in their mid-thirties with beautiful families, large mortgages, and enough memories in the bank to stay young even without Ponce De Leon’s elixir.
Thanks Franki! (by the way, which one of us is "skud" anyway)
It seems that in the past several months I have been hoping that this Fountain of Youth thing really works.
I have played golf with my best friend from high school twice this summer. He knows me. He knew me at 12 years old. We lived together during Freshmen year. We did the beach thing as teen-aged boys. We were very good at baseball, fair at football, and pretty much sucked when it came to going along with the crowd. I invited him to youth church camp. He ran over me with a motorcycle. We both played guitar and we finally learned to sing and played simultaneously. I still remember the first song I sang while he played,…the classic rock ballad from Night Ranger called “Goodbye.”
"Yet it's hard/Living life on this memory-go-round/Always up, always down/Turning 'round and 'round and 'round/And all this could be/Just a dream so it seems/I was never much good at goodbye."
The walls of Burkot Hall 114 begged us to stop until our first floor fan club came to offer their own harmony and humor.
On one particular gift-giving occasion, I gave him a Bible. But before giving it to him, I highlighted Philippians 1.3, “I thank my God every time I remember you.” This was sort of a promise I wanted to make to him. And it’s still true. I thank God to have had such a friend. I thank God even more that I still have him as a friend. I thank God because every memory of him makes me feel 13 all over again.
So, in the last weeks, we’ve played golf. We talked. We laughed a lot. And yeah, we cussed a lot too. It’s what we did when we were 13, so it certainly can work when we’re 34.
No one likes to say “goodbye” to their youth. But, life’s not a dream. Life is real. Life is two nostalgic guys in their mid-thirties with beautiful families, large mortgages, and enough memories in the bank to stay young even without Ponce De Leon’s elixir.
Thanks Franki! (by the way, which one of us is "skud" anyway)
2 comments:
i admire your honesty. I met up with some high school buddies of mine over the weekend and we played some poker and swore a little bit too.
It's a shame to lose contact with those people, because they're almost like a grounding to you. People that knew you before it all.
Ahhhhh, kind words from a kind fellow (the MAN with the FEZ!!) I want to be just like you when I grow up!!
Have you ever noticed that memories of an occurrence are typically more fun/funny than the actual event, and when it occurred? Case in point, the night that I run you over with my motorcycle is much funnier now than when it occurred. Agree?
BTW, I’m pretty sure you are the SKUD.
The other "SKUD"
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