Big Daddy Gouda

Today I turn 30.  Am I getting old?  Compared to Aidan, Yes, definitely.  I’m getting old.  Compared to My father, who turned 60 this year, I’m still that punk kid who got busted for stealing football cards from Caldors.

I suppose being 30 won’t matter much after today.  Today, because it’s my birthday, I’ll think about it.  I’ll ponder my existence in this world.  I’ll be extremely happy to have made it this far in one piece.  I’ll be extremely depressed that I have no wife/kids/home of my own.  Yes, I’m sure I’ll run the gauntlet of emotions today.  But come tomorrow, everything will be okay.

Do you remember my birthday post from last year?  Remember the psychic who I saw when I was 25?  She told me at age 29 I’d be challenged.  She said 29 would be a tough year for me.  So was it?  Was the psychic who was right about everything else right about that?  You’re damn right she was!!

This year My Grandmother died.  My father spent 3 days in the ICU with internal bleeding. ( he’s fine now ).  When I was 25 Keely was the love of my life.  I figured by the time I was 30 we’d be married with a kid.  Well, in year 29 Keely got married and had a kid…with someone other than me.  I’m fine with that, and it’s not a big deal.  But when I was 25, if that psychic had told me about Keels then, hell, I might of jumped of a cliff by now!

So yeah, I’d like to track that mystic down, slap her across the face and ask her more questions about the years to come….then again….maybe I don’t.

Now, for the hell of it, I’d like to share with you 30 Memories that have seemed to stick with me over the years.  These are random and are in no particular order.  I may be all over the place here, but let’s do it…..

1. I remember my dog Crust.  A golden retriever and the first thing not related to me that I ever loved.  The day he got hit by a car was the saddest day of my life until grampy died 8 years later.
2. I remember Yankee games with my dad.  My dad and I were never close and baseball was the only thing we ever had in common.  I remember when Bernie Williams hit a grand slam to put the Yankees ahead.  My dad and I attempted a hi-five and we missed…..never close.
3. I remember my senior year of high school.  To this day I believe it was THAT year that defined who I am today.  I had the greatest friends in the history of the world.  If there is a God, I thank him for that year.
4. I remember the tickling game with grampy.( get yer minds outta the gutter)  He’d take of his glasses and pretend he was the “tickle monster”  One day I laughed so hard from being tickled I threw up.  Good times.
5. I remember summers with Bob.  He was my neighbor.  We played from 8am to 9pm right on the street.  We would constantly try to invent “the greatest game ever invented by kids”  We came up with games like “The Clue Game” and “Big Momma”  Ask me how to play sometime….or ask Bob.
6. I remember my first day of school in 4th grade.  I was new to the litchfield school system.  There was an odd kid next to me who seemed really nervous.  He kept picking at his ear.  The name tag on his desk said Adam Benedict.
7. I remember my mom in a yellow bathrobe standing in an illuminated hallway carrying my newborn sister. ( Yes, I really remember that )
8. I remember falling through a boarded up hole in my neighborhood.  The punk kids I was hanging around with started running around the hood chanting “Walter’s Face is Bleeding, Walter’s Face is Bleeding!”
9. I remember my sister and I lip-syncing to “You Can Call Me Al”  just like Paul Simon and Chevy Chase did in the video.  We had the whole routine down pat.  The typewriter was our keyboard and the dog toys were our saxophones.
10. I remember talking on the phone in Tai’s bedroom.  I remember a girl who I recognized but didn’t know, walking in and in a sweet voice saying, “Could you let me know when you’re off the phone”  Her name was Keely Weik.
11. I remember Joe hugging Me and Tai at the same time the night before we left for college.
12. I remember dancing to the odd couple theme in my living room.
13. I remember Jewett inviting me to Dairy Queen for ice cream, then asking me to be his best man.
14. I remember “stealing” Cooter’s car and going to Boston with Adam and Tai to visit Bub and Christine.  We drank, and laughed, and watched movies for 4 days straight.  Bub flunked his exams, Cooter didn’t talk to us for a week, and I loved every minute of it.
15. I remember night walks with Ads.  We would park our car in the center of Litchfield and walk.  We called it shooting the shit.
16. I remember My grandfather, in a moment of senility, borrowing my car and getting lost in Torrington.  My dad and I drove around for hours looking for him.  I bumped into Tai while we were searching.  After I told him what was going on Tai borrowed his mom’s car and joined in the search.  I remember my father crying when I told him Tai was helping us look.
17. I remember taking my first bong rip at Larry Sullivan’s party.  Then I spun around on the floor laughing hysterically.  Parties at Larry’s……
18. I remember seeing U2 at the Hartford Civic Center with Bub, Mere, and Jewett.  I rember Sunday Bloody Sunday and I remember Jewett and I peeing in our empty beer cups so we wouldn’t miss any of the show.
19. I remember sitting  shotgun in a car with Kris Waters.  We pulled up along this older couple walking their dog in Torrington.  Kris casually stuck his head out the window and said “Hey Buddy, do you think you could fit your fist up her pussy?”
20. I remember My Senior Prom and dancing to ‘It’s The End of The World As We Know It’.  During the chorus everyone threw their hands up into the air and sang along.
21. I remember holding Keely’s hand at the hospital.
22. I remember Adam walking out of Dairy Mart with a bag of smartfood and slipping on the ice.  He didn’t drop the popcorn even though he landed on his back.  I’m laughing out loud right now.
23. I remember my 25th Birthday in NYC.  I remember the Yanks/Sox game from the bleachers.  I remember Adam’s wasabi and I remember a flaming Mattie at Flashdancers.
24. I remember my mother coming home from work and waking me up to tell me The Howling was on HBO and I could watch if I wanted to.  I did.
25. I remember a snowstorm, mushrooms, Tai’s house, and Tai’s Mom.
26. I remember taking a nap in Bub’s bedroom in Boston along with 10 other people while The Samples played on the CD player.
27. I remember Valentine’s Day and Red Headed Sluts with Jay and Jamie.
28. I remember picking Aidan up at Daycare for the first time when he was 2.  The shear scream of joy from him when he saw me walk through the door has never made me feel so wanted. Aidan Nathaniel Weik;  The first person I’ve ever loved more than myself.
29. I remember Christine and The StarWars Trilogy.
30. I remember the first CD I ever bought:  Def Leppard’s Adrenalize.

A pretty Random List, I know.  But that’s the best way to sum up my life so far….Random.

It was the fall on 1996.  Myself, Adam, and Tai were visiting Bub at his bucolic catholic college, BC. 

The name on the door directly across the hall from bub’s read REVEREND BENTLEY ANDERSON.  Bub explained to me at BC instead of RA”S living in the dorm’s with students, they have priests, or men studying to be priests.  As weird as this sounded to me, it also kinda made sense….kinda.

Later in the afternoon I excused myself to walk down the hall and use the bathroom.  On my way back I glanced at the name on the door: REVEREND BENTLEY ANDERSON. I don’t know what came over me but i began rapping on bub’s door and in my best British accent, ( to me the name Bentley Anderson sounded British) think jimmy Stewart meets Simon cowell I said “Brian, Brian, this is the Reverend Bentley Anderson, please let me in…I want to see your firm buttocks”  I walked into Brian’s room and Adam, Tai,along with bub were laughing hysterically.  That’s all I needed to see. 

For the rest of the weekend, every time I would leave the room and return I would rap on the door and in my little ole accent I would spew some derogatory catholic remark: “Brian, this is Reverend Bentley Anderson again, please come into my room at midnight, I want to show you something….Please” 

Every time I returned to the room the guys were in hysterics.  I suppose every thing’s funnier when you’re away from home, eating crappy pizza, drinking natty light and watching porn.  Then on the 4Th day everything changed

I was on my way back into Brian’s room after completing another one of  my homoerotic priest impressions through the door.  I walked into the room.  Adam and Brian were laughing but I sensed the joke was getting old. I suppose it was.  I decided to dive into bub’s roomies stack of Playboys.  Just then there was a knock at the door.  The hair on the back of my neck stood up.  I knew this just wasn’t good.  Brian let out sigh and went to the door.  He peeped through the peephole.

“Shit it’s Bentley” 

“Who” Adam asked?  Not fully comprehending the significance of the visitor. 

“Adam” i said, “That’s the guy I’ve been imitating all weekend.”

Brian slowly opened the door, I jumped into the closet, hidden from view.  But not before catching a glimpse of this “Reverend”

He kinda looked like Anthony Edwards from ER, not the Priest from the Exorcist that I had in visioned.

“How’s it going” bub said, as casually as I’ve ever heard him say anything. 

Reverend Bentley had just one thing to say, and he said it verly calmly with only a hint of anger: “Tell your Asshole friend, with the fake British accent to knock it off”

“OK” Brian said quietly, and he closed the door.

“Sorry” I said. 

 Brian looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and spoke

“Well, I guess I ca n’t have dinner with him ever again” 

We were about to resume business as usual when another knock came at the door, then a voice, a horrible attempt at a British accent said: “Brian, Brian, come into the shower, I dropped my soap”  But this isn’t the man I just heard speak it was someone different.  It was Tai, who missed the whole thing cuz he was dropping a deuce. 

Brian’s face turned bright red, he rushed to the door flung it open nearly scaring Tai half to death. ( i think he may of dropped his 2ND deuce in 10 minutes)

Brian grabbed tai and pulled him into the room

“Jesus Christ Tai, I have dinner with that guy” 

“Gees dude, sorry, you let Gouda do it all weekend, I try it once and you flip out on me.”

I was in the middle of filling out one of those awesome myspace surveys when I came upon this question; “Have you ever had surgery?”

Truth be told, I have; Many Many years ago.

The saga begins on July 20, 1977, the day I was born.

Dr. Wan K. Moon was cleaning me up moments after I escaped the womb.

“Walter is different than the other babies,” Dr. Moon said, terrifying my mother in the process. “He has a birthmark on his forehead.”

Yes, I was born with a mole, smack in the middle of my forehead.

I became aware of my birthmark when I was four or five years old.

Some people, upon meeting me, would tell me or my mother that I had a speck of dirt on my head. Some relatives would even pull out tissue’s or hanky’s and try to remove the “dirt”.

“That’s not dirt, it’s a birthmark,” mom would say, embarrassing which ever relative was messing with it.

When I started first grade, my mole became an issue.

In the early days of my schooling, mom would comb my hair before school. She would part my hair to the side. I looked like Beaver Cleaver.

There was one kid in my class, Jeff Beebe, who made fun of my mole non-stop. His favorite way of teasing was to use his thumb and his pointer finger to make a circle about the size of a dime. He would put the circle up to his forehead, kind of like the L for Loser symbol.

“Who am I?” he’d ask the class. “I’m Walter mole head.”

He also made up a song about my mole. I still remember the words.

“Walter’s got a brown mark, on his forehead it stands. For pride and for joy, that brown mark is there.”

Yes, it doesn’t make any sense but after a few days almost the whole class knew the words. When Jeff Beebe started singing everyone would join in and sing along.

After a few weeks of teasing I instructed mom to comb my hair a different way. Instead of parting my hair, I’d have her comb it down in the front. I didn’t care what it looked like as long as my mole was covered.

I never left for school unless my mole was hidden. While at school, whenever I used the bathroom I would be sure to check myself in the mirror to make sure the mole wasn’t showing.

Every few months when I went for haircuts, mom always instructed the hairdresser to leave enough hair in the front to cover my birthmark.

Mom never called it a mole. She always referred to it as a birthmark.

No one ever teased me about it except for Jeff Beebe in first grade, most likely because no one ever noticed the mole thanks to my ugly hairstyle. Then again, maybe people did notice but to them it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe it was only a big deal to me….and to Jeff Beebe.

The mole was never that big. It really did look like a speck of dirt when I was a little boy. When I reached fourth grade I’d say it was probably the size of my pinky fingernail. It wasn’t gross and hairy. It was just there and it was brown and I hated it.

One afternoon, when I was nine years old, after hanging up the phone with my father, mom asked me a very important question.

“Do you want to get your birthmark removed?,” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied without giving a moments thought to the “how’s” or “why’s”.

Mom took me to see a skin doctor. I still remember his name, Dr. Ruggerio. He was Hungarian and had a thick accent.

He laid me down in a chair in his office, put a huge magnifying glass up to my forehead and studied the mole for a few seconds.

“Yes, I think it’s time that came off,” he said, as if he were referring to a band-aid.

The procedure wasn’t something he could do in his office. I was scheduled for surgery at Charlotte Hungerford Hospital.

I don’t remember much about the procedure. I remember crying in the elevator with a nurse. I told her I was nervous, she told me I’d be fine and she held my hand.

I remember lying on the operating table. They covered my eyes with a cloth because the light was going to be really bright. They numbed my forehead with Novocaine. I remember hearing something buzzing that sounded like a drill or saw. I remember the cool feeling of blood running down the side of my face after the doctor made the first cut.

When I went back to school the day after the surgery I lied to everybody about why I had a big band-aid on my forehead covering stitches.

I told everyone it was a skiing accident. As far as I knew no one had ever seen my mole so they wouldn’t know the real reason.

As soon as the mole was gone, I did something I hadn’t done in years, I began combing my hair. I invested in a new comb, which I carried in my back pocket. I bought hair gel, hairspray and mousse. Whenever I went to the hairdresser I always told her to “do something cool”. In my head I secretly made fun of other kids who didn’t comb their hair.

I felt like a new person without my mole.

Mom always said she did the surgery because eventually, as I got older, the mole would get bigger and could become cancerous. I always thought, yeah, that was probably part of the reason. But mom knew how self-conscience I was about my mole and she knew I’d be happier without it.

The only proof of the mole’s existince is a tiny scar on my forehead.

As for Jeff Beebe, the kid who made my life a living hell in first grade by calling me “Walter Mole-Head”, singing songs about me and forcing me to forever hide my shame; Well, I heard when he was in fourth grade, right around the time I was getting my mole removed, he was in his backyard playing with matches. A fire started and he suffered 3rd degree burns to his face. Kids began calling him “Pizza-Face Jeff Beebe”

The kid lived a life of crime. Over the years I’ve read about him numerous times in the police blotter. He was even in Bantam Court a few months ago on charges of drug possession, weapons charges and theft. I was sitting in court covering cases for the paper when I heard the prosecutor say, “The State of Connecticut vs Jeff Beebe”.

If this were a movie or some TV show we all know how it would of turned out.

I would of waited for Jeff Beebe outside of court. I would of re-introduced myself to him and said something like;

“Hey Jeff, we went to school together way back in the day.”

I would of felt sorry for what this boy had become. Maybe we would of shared a cigarette. He would of apologized for making fun of me. I would of told him “it’s no big deal”.

But none of that happened.

In the real world I remained seated as Jeef Beebe, looking scraggly and guilty, head bowed in shame, walked out of the courtroom, his case continued.

One thought crossed my mind:

KARMA’S A BITCH.

I must have been 10 years old.  My Grandpa Jon was driving me home. I was in the back seat with my sister Lora.  I said, “Dare me to swear at Grampy?”  My sister’s eye’s lit up.  She nodded Yes  I quietly said “FUCK”  My sister and I giggled.  My grandfather did not hear me.  Then I said it a little louder, “FUCK”  Again, I don’t think my grandfather heard me, but this time he seemed to pick up on something odd going on in the back seat.  “Do it again!” My sister pleaded.  This time I would say it louder, but this time my grandfather was ready, “Fuck You Grampy” I said.  But just as I was saying it my grandfather was turning down the radio to pick up on the hi-jinx taking place in the back seat.  We were pulling up in front of my house.  My grandfather SLAMMED on the brakes.  He turned to me and my sister with Fire in his eyes. “What did you Say!”  he demanded.  “Nothing” i said quietly. Then he turned to my sister, “What did your brother say Lora!”  “I dunno” my loyal sister said quietly.  Then my grandfather got angry.

“God damn it Walt you better not of said what I think you said!”  I started to get real uneasy and I began to get outta the car. ” I didn’t say anything” I said matter of factly as I got out of the car.  This just infuriated my Grandfather more. “Aw that’s it Walt, I’m telling your father as soon as he gets home and I’m gonna make sure he punishes you!”  Now by this time I was halfway up the sidewalk toward the front door.  Hearing that my grandfather was gonna tell my father was the Kiss of death.  When my father laid down the law, that was it.  I figured he’d either, take away my Nintendo, make me stay in my room the whole weekend, or both.  I figured no matter what, I was screwed.  So in that instant I became bolder than I ever had before. 

I turned to my Grandfather who still had an angry look on his face. What I said next crossed the line between legend and reality, but none the less here goes.”You wanna know what I said, I said FUCK YOU OLD MAN!”  As I shouted this to my grandfather I also stuck out my middle finger.  Just to drive the point home.  My sister didn’t giggle this time.  She looked at me as if she was never gonna see me again.  In that instant my Grandfather went from David Banner to the Incredible Hulk.

He attempted to chase after me.  I started to run.  I knew he couldn’t catch me, and apparently so did he.  The quick thinking, ex Naval Officer, that was my grandfather, pulled off his own boot, and threw it at me.  He clipped me in the back just as I was rounding the corner of the house  It didn’t hurt so much as it threw off my balance. I stumbled a bit, lost my footing, and fell into the railing of the porch. Due to the speed at which I was running, and my weight, the momentum carried me over the porch railing.  I fell about 3.5 feet and landed head first in a pricker bush.

I wasn’t hurt.  But I was a bit overwhelmed at the whole turn of events.  Within seconds my sister and grandfather were standing over me.  The anger that was on my grandfather’s face was now gone.  Replaced by a look of concern, which instantly turned to relief as I started to get up.  “Are you okey?” My grandfather asked. “Yeah” I said.  He hugged me as I got up.  My grandfather’s temper had gotten the best of him, and he felt bad about it.  “You wanna go to Burger King?” he asked.  I sure did!  Being 10 years old, nothing washed away the sting of a good argument like a chicken sandwich and fries.

My grandfather never told my father that I swore at him.  I never told my father that grampy threw a boot at me and in the process sent me spiraling off the porch.  According to family legend, my sister blabbed the whole story to my mother, who in turn, blabbed to my grandmother.  Rumor has it my dad found out while he was bartending at Dick’s restaurant.  Apparently my next door neighbor Mario, a Dick’s restaurant regular, had seen the whole incident and found it absolutely hilarious.

The story was told repeatedly over the next few years at family dinners or holiday parties, rumor has it the story was even overheard at my grandfather’s funeral.  Everyone in my family would tell their version. Some versions had my Grandfather falling of the porch with me, some versions had me lying upside down in the pricker bush all afternoon until a neighbor saw me and pulled me out, some say my sister also threw a shoe at me to aid my grandfather at his attempt to capture.  My grandmother, my sister, my mother, my aunt Barbara, I think even Mario may have chimed in a few times with variations as to what truly transpired that day.

I’m only sure of 2 things.  I never swore in front of my grandfather after that day, and he never again threw a boot at me.  Although I did punch him in the balls once after seeing someone do it on TV.  But that my friends, is another story.

I found an old box of pictures burried under my bed.  In the pile was a picture of a girl I used to know.  Her name is Jenny.  I haven’t spoken to her in 7 years.  I’d like to tell you about her…

I was a freshmen at Keene State College when I met her.  18 years old.  She was an RA on the floor above me.  She was a junior.  20 yrs old.

The first few times I spoke to her it was stupid stuff, “How do I get to Carle Hall?  or “Where is the science building?”

Her looks never really blew me away.  She was by no means un attractive, but she wasn’t someone you’d call a “knockout”  Kinda plain looking.  If there was ever a girl next door type it was Jenny.  She was tall, blond, skinny, and she wore glasses.  She dressed mostly in jeans and t-shirts.  She wore overalls alot.

She made friends with some of her residents.  They looked up to her and went to her for advice.  I was friends with some of these girls so occasionally I’d be in the same place as Jenny.  Whether it be the dining hall or some sort of dorm function.

Like I said I never really talked to her.  She was just kinda there to me.  But I do remember being a bit intrigued by her.  She was at Keene pursuing a teaching degree.  She was minoring in German.  Jenny was very outspoken… in a good way.  She said whatever was on her mind whenever she felt like it.  Occasionally if something pissed her off she’d swear in German.  That was interesting to me. 

A friend of mine from Keene, Jim, described her as having “the glow”  I guess you would call it that love of life.  People seemed to gravitate toward her.  But not me so much.  I kinda just watched.  I didn’t go out of my way to see her or speak to her.  I didn’t think about her when she wasn’t around.  But when she was around, I paid attention.

To Jenny I’m sure I was just a guy who hung out with some of the girls on her floor.  Kinda quiet.  Who knows, maybe she thought I was gay or a creep.

Things changed one Saturday night when Tai and I came back from a party.  Jenny was working the desk at our dorm.  As usual she was surrounded by the girls on her floor. Our friends.

Tai and I walked  to the desk and began to chat with everyone.  Jenny was in the middle of a story about one of her friends who was dating a frat brother.  Apparently the guy was a huge asshole and not even that cute.  Jenny couldn’t understand what her friend saw in this jerk.  For the 1st time since I’d been at college I decided to “be Walt”.

As causal as could be I said, “Maybe she’s with him because he’s got a big dick?”

The girls went silent.  They gazed at me as if I was crazy.  Tai began to laugh but as soon as he saw the girls reaction he shut right up.  Jenny looked at me strangely.

“What?” she said.

I was not ready to let up.  I’d had a few drinks in me I suppose.

“Well if he’s a jerk, and he’s ugly, he obviously has a big dick…Unless your friends a retard and she likes ugly assholes.”

Jenny just looked at me.  Studying me.  She had a half smile on her face.  Then she began to chuckle.

“Yeah that must be it” she said half laughing. 

She glanced at me for a second longer and began to talk to the girls again.  After a few more minutes Tai and I decided to go back to our room.  We said our goodbyes and shuffled off.

As we turned the corner to go to our room I stopped at the soda machine.  That’s when I heard Jenny say it.  I’ll never forget it.  She was talking to a girl named Kelly and said, “How ’bout that comment from Walt”…( she paused for a moment )…”I think I love him”

When Jenny said “I think I love him”  I know she didn’t mean she “LOVED” me.  I think she simply meant she found me interesting or was amused at my smart ass comment about her friend.  Regardless of motive, when I heard her say that, for some reason or another my senses were heightened…

Over the next few weeks I made it a point to talk to Jenny whenever I saw her.  Even if we were just passing each other on campus I made sure stop and say “hello”.  She smiled every time she saw me and I liked that.

Whenever we were hanging out in groups we always seemed to end up sitting next to each other.  If there was an empty seat next to her I would casually sit in it.  Tai, who seemed to sense that something “different” might be going on, always seemed to leave the seat empty next to Jenny if he arrived at the table first.

Whenever I told stories to the group about my friends back home Jenny always asked the most questions.  Whenever I cracked jokes at other peoples expense Jenny laughed loudest.

But through all this harmless flirting nothing substantial ever happened.  I didn’t ask her out on dates, I didn’t call her on the phone, I didn’t walk her to class.  And she did none of those things to me.  We never really made it a point to hang out but when we did end up sharing the same space it was as though we were the only people in the room.

To be quite honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing.  I wasn’t sure if I liked her.  I wasn’t sure is she liked me.  I didn’t know if I enjoyed spending time with her because she paid attention to me or if I was starting to develop “feelings” for her.

I always considered myself socially smart.  But when it comes to this sort of stuff I’ll be the first to admit how clueless I really am.  In my mind, if Jenny and I were supposed to be more than friends, then it would simply just happen.  And one night, it did…..

Jenny was having “movie night” in her dorm room.  She was inviting a few of her residents that she was closest too, and luckily, Tai and I received an invite.

As we all staked out spots in Jenny’s small dorm room I made it a point to grab a spot on the couch.  Mainly for comfort purposes.  People jumped on her bed, and just piled on to the floor.  A girl named Meg was about to sit on the couch next to me when Jenny snapped “No that’s my seat!”  Even typing this I remember the lump in my throat when she said that.

We were watching a bootlegged copy of Dangerous Minds.  Jenny and I were sharing a couch but we may as well have been strangers in a movie theater.  Then in the middle of the movie she reached onto her bed, grabbed a pillow, put it in my lap, and laid down.  Before she did she said “Do you mind?”  As if this stuff happens all the time I simply shrugged my shoulders and pretended to be engrossed in the movie.

I had a strange feeling in my stomach the whole time she laid there.  Occasionally I looked down.  Was I supposed to do something?  Was she just trying to be comfortable?  Did she want me to do something?

I decided to try something.  I nonchalantly put my arm over hers  I was kinda resting my hand in front of her.  Acting as if this was completely accidental I whispered “oh sorry” and I began to move my hand away.  But she grabbed it…and held it.

And at that moment, with that simple gesture, everything changed.

There was no more uncertainty about my feelings toward Jenny…and I was scared shitless.

So it was official.  I had genuine feelings for Jenny.  The pot that had been simmering for a month finally came to a boil after “movie night”.  Tai was the first person I told.  His response: “No shit”

This was new territory for me.  Granted, I’d had crushes before, but everything about this felt different.  When Jenny was around me everything seemed to glow.  I know it sounds a bit cliche, but when I was with her I was on fire.

You could say Jenny and I were pretty much inseparable. ( insert forrest gump references here )  We tried our hardest to eat lunches together.  We always made it a point to have dinner together in the dining hall.  And yes, we spent our nights together as well.

At first Jenny and I would simply hang out at night then retreat back to our separate dorm rooms.  One night, her, Tai and I were watching a movie.  When the movie was over she got up to leave.  “I don’t wanna go” she said.  “Well, you can stay here”   I responded.  Without hesitation Jenny said “Ok”

I didn’t really expect her to say Yes.  But I was glad she did.  I asked Tai if he minded.  Of course he didn’t.  And even if he did I don’t think he would of told me.  He knew how happy I was.

As much time as Jenny and I spent together we never had “The Talk”.  I never told her in words how I felt and she said nothing either.  I never felt like I had to, and I guess she felt the same.  The funny thing is, I didn’t really think about it.  I never sat up at night wondering, ‘should I tell Jenny how I feel’

Everything was working out great.  It was a great big roller coaster and I don’t remember the last time my life was so exciting.  Then, about 3 weeks into this grand adventure, Jenny told me about Jason.

Jason had been Jenny’s boyfriend her freshmen and sophomore years of college.  At the end of sophomore year Jason left for South America to study abroad.  Before he left he and Jenny broke up.  They had both decided it was the right thing to do.  When Jenny told me about him she made it clear they were “done”  I did the math in my head:  They’d been broken up 3 months before she met me.

Quite honestly I was fine with the whole thing.  Jenny was an honest person and this was something about her life I suppose I needed to know.  Jason was coming home around Christmas time and Jenny did have plans to see him.  Truth be told I was fine with that as well.  Maybe I was too young and naive, or just plain doped up on love to be alarmed by this.  After the conversation I told Jenny I was glad she told me about him.  Then I kinda just forgot about it.  That is until I mentioned it to Tai….

Tai, who had pretty much been my wingman for this whole thing, definitely put up a caution flag after I told him about Jason.  He said it could very well be no big deal.  But 2 years is a long time for a couple to be together.  Tai’s theory was, things were all fine and dandy now while Jenny and Jason were thousands of miles apart.  But what happens when they share the same space again.  Thinking back on it, Tai was definitely making a valid point.  But back then, when I was living it, I wanted to strangle him for making me worry.

Aside from “the Jason thing”, life with Jenny remained on the up and up.  We did some great things that I can’t believe I did.  Like waking up a 5am, taking a bus 2hours to some state park and doing a “forest clean up”  It was a volunteer thing that Jenny suckered me in to, but honestly, at the time, I was happy to do it.  We used to walk to the movies alot.  One time, after we got out of the theater it was pouring rain.  The sidewalks were flooded.  Jenny, half joking I think, said “If you were a gentlemen you’d carry me back to campus.”  I gave her piggy back the whole way.

When I left for Keene in August I thought how cool it was gonna be come December to have a whole month off from school.  But as Christmas break approached I was kinda sad about being apart from Jenny for a month.  Yup, it was a crazy crazy time for me.

While home on break I told everyone about her.  Some people thought it was very odd that I was so hung up on a girl.  Truth be told I never had been before so it was only natural I wanted to talk all about it.

The first week I was home Jenny and I would speak on the phone every night.  The second week we’d talk every few days.  Then as Christmas approached we kept playing phone tag.  After Christmas she stopped calling.  When I would call her she didn’t answer the phone.  I’m not gonna lie, I was a bit worried.

Shortly after New Years, 3 weeks before the start of the spring semester, I got a letter in the mail.  It said what I already knew in my heart:

Jenny and Jason were getting back together.

I remember reading the letter standing in my kitchen.  I read it 3 times before I moved.  No matter which way I read it the message was clear; Jenny and Jason were getting back together.

Don’t get me wrong.  The letter, considering what kind of letter it was, was heartfelt.  Jenny apologized a hundred times.  She said she never expected this to happen.  She said hurting me was never her intention.  She tried to avoid all this but she can’t help the way she feels…blah blah blah.

When I told Tai about it he wasn’t surprised.  What ticked him the most was that she did this all in a letter and didn’t have the decency to call me.  On the surface I agreed with him.  But that part didn’t really bother me.  Truth be told, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would of sent a letter as well.

Before I got the letter I couldn’t wait to go back to Keene.  I was looking forward to the spring semester the way elementary school kids look forward to summer vacation.  But in the span of 15 minutes, the time it took me to read that letter 3 times, the last place on earth I wanted to be was Keene State College…

I spent the last few weeks of winter break drinking, going to the movies, and trying my hardest to forget that Jenny existed.  I believe the exact day I started to feel a bit better about the whole thing my father was loading his car getting ready to take me back.

I felt like I ate a brick.  I had no appetite, I was nervous, I looked like hell.  To put it simply I was a wreck.

I hid in my dorm room the whole day.  Just kinda listening to music and laying in my bed.  When Tai went up to Jenny’s floor to see the girls, he knew better than to ask me to come along.

That night before Tai and I turned in he said something to me: “I met Jason”

The brick that was in my stomach earlier suddenly came back.  I tried my hardest to ignore the comment and say nothing, but I had to ask, “What’s he like?”

“Ehh, he’s a douche-bag” Tai said casually.

Tai could of met the 2nd coming of Jesus Christ up there, or his boyhood hero Walter Peyton.  Regardless, he was still gonna tell me what I needed to hear at  that moment.

I turned over and went to bed.  Thinking of Jenny and her douche-bag boyfriend Jason.

For the first few weeks of Spring Semester I did a marvelous job of avoiding her.  I didn’t bump into her once.  Unfortunately, part of avoiding Jenny met avoiding the girls on her floor who I had become pretty good friends with.  But I would see them in the dining hall or at parties.  Besides, they knew the situation and they seemed to understand.

But Keene’s a small little school.  Bumping into Jenny was unavoidable.  I was coming out of the bathroom and she was walking down MY hall with Jason.  When I saw her my insides went bonkers.  I just hoped to maintain my composure on the outside.

“Hey Walt” she said casually

“What’s up” I said back.

And we both just kept walking.  It was quick and pointless.  But not painless.  It ruined my whole day.

Besides that little encounter Jenny and I rarely saw each other.  Occasionally I’d see her in the dining hall or across campus walking.  She was always with him.  It was my guess she was trying as hard to avoid me as I was her.

One night we had a fire drill.  Our dorm was evacuated.  We were all standing out in front of the building freezing our asses off.  I was standing with Tai.  He was looking over my shoulder.  A confused look suddenly came over him.  I turned and saw, of course, Jenny and Jason.  And it was suddenly clear why Tai had the look on his face.  Jason was wearing MY UCONN sweatpants that I’d left in Jenny’s room.  They were easily recognizable as they had rips in both knees.  At that point I could only shake my head and laugh.

Over the next few weeks things in my life got really really hectic.  My Grandfather passed away, Tai pledged a fraternity and then had to drop out of school for financial reasons.

When I came  back to Keene after the funeral I came back without Tai.  He had been with me through this whole Jenny mess.  I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna survive without him…..But, I managed.

I spent my weeks living a very non college life.  I went to class, and I went to the dining halls by day, and by night I would rent movies and talk on the phone.  Weekends I would travel to Boston or UCONN to visit my friends at their college’s.  My body was living at Keene but my mind was always someplace else.

One night I was sitting in my room playing solitaire on the computer.  There was a knock at my door.  I assumed it was Tai since he was on his way up from CT to visit.  “Come in” I yelled.  But Tai did not come in….it was Jenny.

“Hi” she said quietly.

I could barely look at her.  I was just starting to feel better about stuff.  Having her in my room, hearing her voice, was bringing everything back.

“Hey” I said back.  And then….there was silence.  Awful, awful silence.

I just stared blankly at my computer screen.  Then she spoke again.

“Do you miss me?” she said almost under her breath.

I wanted to say “Fuck off” or “Get the hell outta here!”   I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to ask that.  Of the million things I wanted to say, I could only muster up one little word:

“Yes”

After a few seconds I heard my door close.  She was gone.  I thought I was starting to feel better about everything, but Jenny’s unannounced visit proved how wrong I really was. 

I’ve never been a very violent or angry person, but at that moment I was so full of rage I did something I rarely do, I swung my arm at a glass full of pens that sat on my desk.  The glass flew across the room, hit a poster on the wall, shattered, knocked the poster down, and it all came crashing to the floor.  Pens and glass were everywhere.  And then Tai came in.

“I just passed Jenny in the hall”

I said nothing.  I didn’t even look at him.  He said nothing either.  He was obviously surveying the disaster that had become my dorm room.

“I brought a movie” Tai said casually as he stepped over glass and pens.

That was pretty much it for me and Jenny that year.  We had no more encounters after the incident in my room.  Between final exams and celebrating the various spring weekends at UCONN or The Boston Schools, things went by nice and fast.

Summer brought on a great healing process.  I know I couldn’t truly forget Jenny while I was living in New Hampshire.  Being home everyday is just what I needed.  I spent the summer partying, going to concerts, sleeping late, and enjoying my friends.

When I returned to Keene in the fall I felt like a new man.  I wasn’t afraid to see Jenny.   I was actually looking forward to school again.

One of my first stops on campus was to make peace with the girls from Jenny’s floor.  I had become pretty good friends with most of them but after Jenny and I had our falling out I kinda ignored them a little.  The whole guilty by association thing.

They welcomed me back with open arms.  We made the small talk, “How was your summer”  “What are your classes like” Yadda Yadda Yadda.

After the small talk Beth broke the ice:  “Have you talked with Jenny at all?”

“No” I said as casually as I could.  Like it was no big deal.  And quite honestly, it wasn’t.  That is until Beth made her next comment.

“So you didn’t hear about her and Jason?”

“No” i said, but I was ready for it.  I figured one of 2 things, they were engaged or she was pregnant.

But Beth said nothing of the sort:

“They broke up”

And at that moment…..Time stood still.

My initial reaction to the news of Jenny and Jason’s demise, was, in hindsight, an unhealthy one.

When Beth broke the story to me I acted as if it was no big deal.  But on the inside I was ecstatic.  Images and ideas were rumbling through my brain.  I figured it’d only be a matter of days before everything with Jenny was back to normal.  Things would be the way they were last year before HE came back.

I wasn’t thinking about the past 7 months and how much shit I went through.  I’ll admit there were times if I wasn’t missing Jenny I was hating her.  But hearing the news erased the sour taste in my mouth.  Anger and hatred were slowly being replaced with a warm fuzzy glow.

According to Beth, Jenny and Jason wanted different things.  Jenny wanted to graduate in the spring and get a teaching job in New Hampshire the following fall.  Jason wanted to travel the world and possibly return to South America.  It the end they decided to pursue their own dreams and take separate paths.  Which, as far as I was concerned, left the door open for me.

I’m not gonna lie, I fully expected Jenny to call me that nite or stop by my dorm to deliver the news.  But she didn’t.  Maybe tomorrow?  But nothing.  Eventually days turned to weeks.  No phone calls, no dorm visits.  Nothing.  After everything we’d gone through I couldn’t  bring myself to go to her.  After all, she ended us when she chose Jason.  It was up to her to come back to me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I did see Jenny on campus.  But it was never anything more than a “How’s it going”  Our dramatic reunion was not taking place.  After about a month I came to a realization:  Jenny was not coming back.  I guess she didn’t want to be with me.  Tai figured she was all busted up over Jason and most likely wanted to enjoy single life and be free.

I agreed with him.  I decided to put the idea of Walt and Jenny away and concentrate on enjoying the college life.  And then, one night, when all hope seemed lost, she came to my room.

She said she just wanted to say “Hi”  We made small talk for a bit.  I don’t think I could even hear myself talk or hear her words.  There was an uncomfortable weight in the room and neither of us could ignore it.  After a few awkward silences Jenny asked an important question:

“Do you hate me?”

And I was going to be honest: “No”

But I had a question of my own: “Where’ve you been for the last month?”

“I was afraid to talk to you.  I know I hurt you and I figured you hated me”

I felt like she was groveling.  Finally Jenny was pushed up against the wall.  She was trying to open up.  I thought about letting her stew in her juices but it just didn’t seem right.

“I’m fine” was all I could say.

“Wanna go for a walk?” she asked

Of course I did.

Jenny and I literally walked and talked all night.  We talked about everything; last year, Jason, breaking up with Jason, our summers, everything.

We ended up in front of her dorm around 5 in the morning.  As were were saying our “goodnights”, the exact thing I’d expected to happen all night happened.  We kissed….And I felt… nothing.

Last year kissing Jenny always felt right.  Every time felt like the first time.  I remember strange things happening:  Goosebumps, chills, a odd, nice feeling in my stomach.  I guess you would call it Fireworks every time.  But now, one year later, I felt nothing.  Nothing good, nothing bad.

It doesn’t matter what your mind is thinking.  The body doesn’t lie.  For months I’d thought about kissing Jenny again, but now that it finally happened….there were no more fireworks.

I knew she must of sensed it to.  Something good and something special that had always been alive between us was gone.  It’d probably been gone for a while, but it took this moment to realize it.

Instead of talking about all this I simply said “Goodbye” and started to walk back to my dorm.  As I was walking away Jenny stopped me:

“Don’t you want to come up?” she said innocently.

But I didn’t.  I honestly didn’t.  And I was all busted up over it.  I thought this is what I wanted.  I thought we were supposed to be together.  But I didn’t want to go up.

“Na, I’m just gonna go home I guess”

“Ok” she said calmly.

As I walked back to my dorm there was no doubt in my mind that Walt and Jenny were over.  The magic that had been all around us a year earlier was gone.

To this day it’s hard for me to figure out what the hell happened.  I’ll never understand how such strong feelings just seemed to disappear with one kiss.  Maybe they’d been gone for a while.  Maybe they started to die the moment I got that letter about her and Jason.  Maybe the damage done was so severe there was no coming back.  Maybe Maybe Maybe….

After that night Jenny and I rarely spoke.  She was super busy getting ready to graduate in the spring, and me, like an idiot I decided to pledge a fraternity.

By the time Christmas break rolled around Jenny was just another person on campus.

I never went back to Keene State College after break.  I transfered to Central CT State.  I don’t think I thought about Jenny much.  I was busy with other things….

A year and a half went by, and one day, out of the blue, Jenny called me.  I didn’t even recognize her voice.  We talked for a bit.  She told me she was teaching in Nashua New Hampshire.  She sounded good and seemed happy that I was doing well.

At the end of the conversation Jenny pointed out that it took alot of courage for her to call me, as she wasn’t sure what to say.  She was glad she got a hold of me, but said now the ball was in my court and it was up to me to keep in touch.  I assured her I would as we said our Goodbye’s.

That phone call was 7 years ago.  We haven’t spoken since.

And that is pretty much the end of The Walt/Jenny story.  A few people have asked me over the last few weeks “Why” I was writing about it.  And I’ve told them all the same thing, I Don’t Know?

I’m sure some of you were expecting some great ending.  I could tell you I got in touch with her and I’m brining her to Cooter’s Wedding, or she’s the mother of my kid…..But I’d be lying.

The Walt/Jenny story ended quietly with a 15 minute phone call.  Truth be told, after I found her picture I did try to find her.  I googled her and did a myspace search, but found nothing.

I don’t know that I’d visit her if I knew where she was.  I don’t know why I’ve written 5 looong ass stories about her. I don’t know if I ever really loved her or if she ever really loved me.

I’m only sure of one thing, not every day, or week, or month, but every so often, I will think of her and wonder what she’s doing and hope she’s doing well.

The End.

Ads and Brian, were on a little vacay in Atlantic City.  We spent most of the afternoons on the beach.  The second day there Ads and I were sitting on the beach, bored.  Brian was laying face down on a blanket next to us.  He had his walkman on.  He had fallen asleep.  To cure our boredom Adam and I decided to go up to the boardwalk and grab some lunch at Burger King.

As we were walking back to our spot on the beach we casually noticed all the goddamn seagulls slowly following us.  Those scavengers knew we had food.  I grabbed a couple fries and tossed them onto the beach.  It was quite a sight to watch about 25 birds fighting over a handfull of measly fries.  But they would fight viciously as if the tiniest morsel could be their last meal.  We arrived back at our spot and noticed Brian was still sleeping.  I could faintly hear him snoring.  He was in a deep deep afternoon nap.  It was in that instant that a very devious idea popped into my head.

I reached into my burger king bag and pulled out my order of fries.  About half an order of a large fry remained.  I slowly crept up to Brian.  I was about 8 FT away.  I took one small fry and threw it down by his feet.  Instantly a small group of gulls noticed and went after the fry. More importantly the other birds knew something was up. Still, no movement from Brian.  “Adam, watch this”

I cocked my arm back like a pitcher getting ready to throw an underhand softball pitch. With all the speed I could muster I brought my arm forward with the small box of fries in my hand. I firmly held the box when I reached full extension. ( Adam would later remark I had the form of a champion horseshoe thrower ) The box stayed in my grip, but the fries flew out in what could only be described as a thing of beauty.  After that everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  The golden Burger King French Fries flew through the air like arrows during the battle scenes from Braveheart. I glanced at Adam.  He had the wild look of a young child, filled with anticipation for something magical about to happen.  And it did.

The fries crashed square into Brian’s back all at once in a mighty heap.Right between his shoulder blades.  Brian’s head immediately shot up from his afternoon dream.  Then it happened.  Before Brian could turn to see what had happened the Seagulls were upon him.  15 to 20 big fat white seagulls with long black beaks with yellow tips had enveloped him.  I could no longer see Brian.  Just a mass of cackling birds fighting for a portion of the feast I had laid out upon Brian’s back.  I glanced at Adam, his expression hadn’t changed.  This was like a movie to him and he was enjoying every second.  I glanced around the beach, a handfull of people noticed what was going on.  Too stunned or confused to really do anything. Then like a volcano erupting Brian arose from the flock of seagulls that had engulfed him. He began flailing his arms wildly and darted for the ocean.  I immediately knew in his still groggy state he had no idea what was going on.  Brian dove into the ocean.  The birds did not chase him as he would of thought.  They simply began picking at whatever fries remained in the spot where Brian once laid. 

By the time Brian had walked back up to our blankets the birds and my fries were gone.  He was shaking his head in total confusion as he approached us.  “What the fuck happened?”  Adam began laughing uncontrollably.  I wasn’t going to laugh out loud. I didn’t want to give myself away just yet.  Brian’s next question took care of that plan. “Do you think those birds were rabid?”  Then I started laughing.  When I calmed down I watched as Brian slowly crept over to his blanket. He glanced to his left, then right, and finally up to the sky.  He carefully picked up his walkman.  Looked around once again, and preceded back to our hotel.

It wasn’t till weeks later in a somewhat drunken state that I confessed to Bub that I had set him up for the attack by tossing fries on his back.  To my surprise Brian didn’t accept this confession.  He shook his head, “Nah, that wouldn’t of done it.  Somethings up with those birds down in Atlantic City…Something weird.

 When I first started this website and My sister got wind of it, she had but one request, “Don’t put any stories up about me!” Lora, it’s been 3 and a half months.  I’ve honored that request longer than I’d originally intended to. Please find comfort in that…

It was roughly a year ago just before sunrise.  I was tossing and turning in my bed.  I couldn’t sleep and I was pissed about it.  I heard My sister upstairs getting ready for work.  She left for her job as a mail carrier every morning at 5:30.  It was in this instant, for no other reason than “that’s who I am”, that I decided to be an ass.

I knew in roughly 5 minutes she’d walk downstairs, past my room, out the back door and into the driveway to her car.  My plan was to give her the scare of her life.  I heard her start to come down the stairs.  I quietly snuck out the back door.  I stood outside in the cold pre dawn air giddy with anticipation.  I casually glanced around my neighborhood.  It was quiet. I was a bit worried that a neighbor might see me, but not worried enough to abort the mission.

I heard Lora’s footsteps on the hard wood floor.  She was approaching.  I stood off to the side of the door with my back pressed against the house.  The door began to open.  I waited just long enough until I knew the door was open wide enough for her to have a clear view of the driveway.  In that instant I hopped in front of my sister with my arms spread wide as if I was carrying a large box. When I was planted directly in front of my sister I screamed as loud as I could like some crazed lunatic.

My sister didn’t move.  She was completely frozen in mid step, as if time had stopped.  The look on her face was one I’d not seen in my 24 years of knowing her.  I could only describe it with 2 words: SHEAR TERROR.  I instantly began to laugh.

After about 15 seconds My sister composed herself and violently brushed by me toward her car. As she fumbled with her car keys she spoke one sentence, and it was all she would say to me for the next 2 weeks, “You’re lucky I don’t have my mace you fucking asshole!”

As I laughed my way back into the house I began to think how truly traumatizing the whole experience must of been for her.  I’m sure the last thing she expected to see when she opened that door at 5:30 in the morning was ME screaming my head off. To this day I’ll never forget the look on My sister’s face. It was as if Lora opened that door and saw  Lucifer himself.

0px 5px 5px 0px” /> Everyone who knows Brian Shafer is aware that once upon a time he was one of the best “runners” in all of high school sports.  Then in college he became even better.  Second place in all of New England I believe. We also know Brian didn’t run for fame, fortune, or glory.  He ran to get a FREE college education.  However one afternoon, during our senior year of high school, Myself, Aaron and Joe almost ruined Brian’s running career.  At least according to Aaron’s mom anyway.  Ladies and Gentlemen, The Tack Story:

Myself and Joe were at Aaron’s house, hangin in his room watching TV.  The phone rang, it was Brian.  He was on his way over.  As Aaron hung up the phone my attention was focused on a box of thumb tacks that were on Aaron’s bureau.  Not really sure if I was serious or not I said “Hey, why don’t we spread the thumb tacks over the floor, so when Brian comes in he’ll step on ‘em” Joe and Aaron looked at me as if I was a bit crazy.  Then before I could say “just kidding” Joe and Aaron sprung into action.

Aaron grabbed the thumb tacks and immediately began to sprinkle them all over the floor.  After the box was emptied there lay a huge pile of tacks right in front of the bedroom door.  I would say roughly 50 tacks lay sharp side up, ready to do some damage.  Then Joe had an epiphany: “Wait, when he steps on the tacks, he’s gonna immediately jump.  Let’s make 2 piles, so when he jumps outta one, he lands in the other!”  Before I could comment on the pure genius of this statement Joe and Aaron were back to work.

Some images in your memory are forever burned there.  Never to be taken away.  I can honestly say that the image of Joe and Aaron on their bellies, carefully placing the thumb tacks into 2 equal piles is permanently engraved in mine.  I believe they even argued over the placement a few times, “No wait, if he jumps this way he’ll land here, but if he jumps off this foot, which he most likely will cuz he’s right footed, then he’ll undoubtedly land here!” After about 15 minutes, the placement of the tacks was agreed upon.  The trap was set.  Now we just had to wait for the victim. Joe and I sat on Aaron’s bed.  Aaron sat at his desk. After about 10 minutes of unbearable anticipation the doorbell rang!!

“Come in!” Aaron’s mom shrieked from downstairs.  The door opened and we could barely contain our laughter when we heard Brian’s voice say “Hello” to Aaron’s mom.  It was in this instant that Aaron said one of the most brilliant things I’ve ever heard anyone I know say, “Brian, take your shoes off!”  Of course, how could we have been so stupid!  What if he came upstairs with his sneakers on. The scheme would have been ruined.  It was winter and slushy, so the statement to take off your shoes was an obvious one.  But it needed to be said.  Everything was perfect as Brian began to make his way up the stairs.  Except for one small detail.  Joe immediately dimmed Aaron’s lights.  Just in case Brian was looking at the ground.

As Brian entered Aaron’s room I literally thought I’d explode with excitement.  The door slowly opened and he walked in.  “What’s up?” he said as he took his first step. I swear I heard Joe grimace in pity.  But there was no reaction from Brian.  He took another step…..and then he stopped cold. He opened is mouth and a long slow “AAAAH!’ came out.  He immediately looked down and saw the tack pile he was standing in.  And then in a perfectly timed leap of predictability, Brian jumped from the pile of tacks….and landed…..directly in the 2nd pile.  “Pure Genius” was the phrase that ran through my mind.

Aaron, Joe and I, winced at the sight of it.  But like a car crash we couldn’t stop watching. As Brian landed in the second pile he screamed louder.  This time his cries were not only filled with pain, but there was anger in there as well. Instinctively Brian immedietly reached for his wounded foot. In this motion he lost his balance, wobbled a bit, and crashed to the bedroom floor.  We erupted in laughter.

The thud of Brian’s fall, as well as our unusually loud laughing caused Aaron’s mother to come running up the stairs.  She flung the door open and flicked on the lights. “What the hell is going on up here?”  What a site she walked into.  She noticed Joe, Aaron, and I,out of breath and beat red from laughing so hard.  Her attention immediately focused on Brian. He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by thumb tacks, silently picking them out of his feet.

Aaron’s mom erupted. “Are you guys fucking crazy! He’s a RUNNER for Christ Sakes!!” To this day that statement is still strangely amusing to me.  Was she mad because we hurt Brian or was she mad that we hurt someone who was an all star athlete?  For some reason If I was the one sitting there on the floor picking tacks outta my feet, I don’t think she would had quite the same reaction.

After about 5 minutes of screaming and hollering, Aaron’s mom finally left the room.  By the time she left, Brian had just about gotten all the tacks outta his feet.  All that remained was a pattern of tiny red dots covering the bottom of his white sock where the tacks had pierced the skin and the blood had soaked through.

These days when Red Sox fans, and baseball fans alike talk about “The bloody sock” people think of Curt Schilling and how he pitched the biggest game of his life while bleeding from the ankle. Not me! When sports fans bring up a “bloody sock” I think of Brian Shafer, Litchfield High School All Star Runner, sitting on Aaron’s bedroom floor picking thumbtacks outta his fast, graceful, All-Star feet.