Late last night, I got home to find a phone message from Ness. Two words: Agamemnon. Rickenbacker.
My first question to her when I called back was - Did he get into trouble? Is he in jail?
This is one small trial when your best friend in the whole world has children: your history becomes one of those "when I was your age" stories. Vick (who is a little older now than what Ness and I were when we met) is dealing with high school crushes. Ness wanted me to tell Vick about when we were her age and how we dealt with unrequited love. Now, I'm of the mind that no one should be asking me any advice on anything, especially boys...most especially in high school, as I'd never actually dated anyone (knowingly) until after college. But, still, I was called upon and I had to deliver. I told my friend's daughter about the boy in front of me in math class - Scott, golden boy football player with the cupid's bow lips. For two years I pined over him until I heard through the rumor mill that he thought me a toad. Then, there were the brothers in our band: Agamemnon and John. Identical twins - but I could tell them apart easily. Aside from the fact that John was the drummer and Ag was a bassist, there were subtle differences in their faces. John did nothing for me, though he was the more sociable of the two. Agamemnon with his cool distance always did it for me. Never noticed me. Never noticed much, for that matter. Was a bit out there - whether naturally or through chemistry, I'm not sure.
Ness had her crushes too - one of which almost leading her to be beaten up by the object of her desires.
In the end, I just told Vick that crushes are called what they are because they always end up hurting. If they were something else, they'd be called by another name.
It was funny thinking on this after so many years. They are not fond recollections - I remember a lot of anguish. I know that despite the complications of my current life and its relationships and obligations I'm much happier now than I was then. I would not trade now for anything.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
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