Old Friends.

In 2008, I have run the full gamut. At full speed. Without a rest. To put it mildly. So sometimes, when I have a night like tonight, I have to take pause.

To breathe.

To pick up that shiny penny from the ground.

To clasp it in my hand and think, YES. This is what life is about. They’ll never know, I think. They’ll never know exactly what they mean to me, and that’s the secret I’ll take with me everywhere I go for as long as I live. Because words fail us, I think. The best writers in the world can’t express love in any number of volumes. Love is something that can only be expressed through action, and even then sometimes we are betrayed by the circumstances of the sun or the moon or the shifting of the wind.

Over beer, of all things, we bond. But it’s not the beer, really, as much as the excuse of it. Because we’ve bonded over other smaller, more insignificant things too. Billiards, once. Bowling, perhaps. Politics, for sure. There is always politics. And boobs. Boobs will always and forever be the unifying agent of the Universe. Of that I am certain.

To think that I used to work with these people, had the privilege of seeing them every day, and gave it up for what – to teach art! – I cringe, a little. But knowing that however distant the days between our gatherings, we find our ways back, I can do little else but smile, my back turned away, clasping my penny, my luck, my hope, thinking, YES. This is the way it was meant to be.


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