Big Daddy Gouda

Thanks to some old  photos circulating on Facebook depicting “old school”, I’ve been thinking a lot today about life as a student .

In honor of my schoolboy days, here are 12 random memories from my 12 years in the public school system.

Kindergarten through 12th grade was spent in Torrington at Vogel Wetmore, while 4th through 12th grade was spent in Litchfield at the Center, Middle and High School

KINDERGARTEN:On the first day of school our teacher, Mrs Minetti, told us we’d be storing stuff in our “cubicles”. I thought she said “bugles” as in trumpets. I remember getting nervous and almost crying because I didn’t have a “trumpet”.

1st GRADE: I used to sit next to a “slow” kid named Andrew. He never talked. When I was bored I used to pinch his side till he said “Ow”, just to hear him speak.

2nd GRADE:Mrs Campbell was my teacher. A fat 30 year old woman, who, for some reason, hated me. She caught me chewing gum once and made me stick it on my nose. She also made me sit out of the Easter Egg hunt because I “misbehaved” at lunch. A fellow student, Clayton Demming, shared his Easter candy with me after the hunt because he felt sorry for me. If I ever hit the lottery I hope to find Clayton and share some of my riches with him.

3rd GRADE:I remember watching a talent show. Some little kid, a first grader, with the nickname “Chicky” performed a magic trick. I remember all the older girls in the school thought “Chicky” was adorable. Some of you reading this may know Chicky today by his real name, Charles Anderson aka Keely Weik’s husband.

4th GRADE:I was the new kid in a new school. On my first day, some raggedy looking dude sat next to me at lunch, attempting to make friends. His name was Jermiah Manning. He asked me if I wanted to know a secret. “Sure,” I said. With a strait face and a serious tone, Jermiah told me his father had died a year earlier when The Challenger space shuttle exploded.

5th GRADE:Aimee Pelletier sat next to me in Mrs Goldsmith’s class and in the process became my first real crush. In the years that followed a lot of boys had crushes on Aimee, but I still think I noticed her first.

6th GRADE: Sitting on the bus on the way home from school I threw up all over some little kid named Joey. The bus driver asked me why I didn’t let her know so she could have let me off the bus. “Because I didn’t know it was coming”, I said.

7th GRADE:I had two “serious” girlfriends by junior high school standards: Mina Gavell and Danielle O’dell. They both dumped me. Mina had her friend Christine do the honors, while Danielle had her friend Becky dispatch of me.

8th GRADE:Ed Federovich was calling me names all day. As we were getting out of school I cornered him and gave him a charlie horse by driving my knee into his thigh. His eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness, I assume from the pain. I called him later that day and apologized. We became friends.

9th GRADE:Mike LaMere called me a “blimp” in the middle of drafting class and cracked the whole class up. I went home and told my father I was going on a diet. He knew I was serious so he bought me an exercise machine. I worked out every day after school for the entire year. When I returned to school in 10th grade I had lost about 30 pounds and stayed that way until college ruined everything.

10th GRADE:I called  Becca Clock one Saturday night while she was eating soup and watching Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. I told her I had a crush on her and asked her if she was interested in me. I was met with awkward, deafening silence. While it was embarrassing at the time, that phone call led to a great friendship and she became one of my best friends through out the rest of my high school life and beyond.

11th GRADE:Myself and Ethan Antanucci fought over Ari Wilson. Turned out she loved Jeff McKeever.

12th GRADE:My mother went away for a weekend over the New Years Eve holiday. I basically invited the whole school to a party at her house. We had all been to parties before but this was the first one any of us had truly hosted. Someone went to the hospital, someone put a hole in the wall, people hooked up, people puked all over both bathrooms and people from WAMOGO crashed the party. KC and the girls saved me an ass whoopin by organizing a cleaning party the next morning while I slept. The bash was dubbed “Walt’s Part 1″ as I had a similar party 7 months later over the summer. Though it was 14 years ago, I remember it like it was yesterday. Thinking about that night always puts a smile on my face and I  think those in attendance will always remember it. Except for Christine. She left early to ring in the new year with Jeremy.

…………………….

The last class I ever had in school was English with Doc Selli. The bell rang and as we were leaving class for the last time someone shouted “We’re finally free”.

Doc said, “Guys, you’ve never been more free.”

Those that heard him laughed.  I think I rolled my eyes.

My God, how right he was.

…………………………..

 

New Years Eve, my favorite night of the year, is 2 days away!  It’s not just the partying I love.  It’s the energy, excitement, atmosphere, and closeness of friends that make this holiday so fun for me. Here’s a quick rundown of New Years past.  Chances are if you’re reading this you’ve been a part of at least one or all of them:

95: I remember sitting in Adam’s tiny bedroom about a week before New Years Eve.  There were probably 8 of us in the room.  I told them all that my mother was leaving for the weekend and I’d be home alone.  The big discussion was not whether or not to have a party, but what adult was gonna buy us the keg!  Besides the complete destruction of my mother’s house, what I recall most about ’95 was the Midnight countdown.  I was in the upstairs bathroom, throwing up.  I could hear everyone downstairs counting down from 10.  As everyone cheered at the stroke of midnight, I had but one thought…I was graduating in 5 months.

96: My mother was once again going away.  If 25 people were at my mom’s house the year before, then 60 were planning on coming this year.  The keg was ordered, excitement filled the air.  Except for one problem, my mother canceled her trip on New Years Eve day.  We spent the whole day trying to decide what to do.  Around 8o’clock Christine called us at Tai’s. Her parents were gone.  She was worried about the damage that could be done to her house after what happened to mine the year before…but under the pressure of 50 animals waiting to party, she caved.  The night started with Bub declaring “Everyone starts with 5 shots!!”  I recall an incident in the middle of the party, Christine’s older brother Anthony stopped by.  What a site he walked into.  Roughly 50 underage kids, drinking, dancing, smoking, playing cards, making out in bedrooms.  “Are you mad?” Christine asked.  Anthony’s New Years Eve Response: “It’s not my house.”

97:This year we decided to do a little traveling.  Our friend Larry Sullivan was housesitting down by the ocean in Clinton CT.  If you attended Litchfield High School between 93-96, chances are you attended one of Larry’s parties. They were legendary.  We were more than happy to travel the hour to party with Larry.  My most vivid memory from this party, My stupid friends jumping into the Atlantic Ocean shortly after midnight.  Talk about a sobering experience.

98: More traveling! This year we went to Bub’s apartment in Boston.  4 carloads of us made the pilgrimage.  Except for cooter who had to work until 10 back in Litchfield.  It was in this moment that the first ever New Years Eve Miracle occurred.  Cooter, along with his travel companion Krista, walked into Bub’s place just as the clock struck midnight.  Up until that second we didn’t think he was coming at all.  Rumor has it that he arrived to bub’s at 11 and waited outside till midnight to make a GRAND entrance, but that’s just a rumor.

99:This year kicked off the first in what would be a UCONN triple header.  We were celebrating at Jewett’s apartment.  My most vivid memory from this party: Adam, with his size 11 sneaker stepping on poor Keely’s head in the middle of the night as he tried to make it to the bathroom in the dark.  How startling was this for poor Keely?  Her response to being stepped on, “He’s killing me!”

2000( The Millennium): New Years 2K will always be my favorite New Years of them all.  And I really don’t know why.  I’d say about 30 of us crammed into Jewetts apartment again.  But something was different, maybe the energy level was higher because of Y2K.  It just seemed as everyone appreciated the company of friends so much.  I remember midnight like it was yesterday, we were rocking out to Prince’s 1999. ( duh ) As the countdown started I remember standing up on the couch and looking out into the sea of people in the living room.  Everyone was smiling, and hugging, and drinking, and counting.  As I glanced around the room I made eye contact with Jewett.  He smiled at me.  This was his party, and I didn’t remember the last time I had so much fun…eh, who am I kidding, we just drank alot more booze than usual that year….i wonder if Jewett ever found his keys?

2001:My favorite New Years, Y2K, was followed by my least favorite, 2001.  There was only a small group of us that ventured to Uconn.  Not at Jewett’s this year.  Instead we were at Carriage House.  Most people at the party I didn’t know, the music was too loud and too thugged out.  Maybe I was just expecting too much after 2000.  Who knows, I just know for the first time ever I was psyched to pass out early.

2002: This year was somewhat a return to form. For the first time since 96 we didn’t have to travel more than an hour to get to the party.  This year New Years was held at Cooter’s house on Highland lake in Winsted.  The group was once again big, and I believe the New Years Spirit that was lost the year before had been rediscovered.  At the stoke of midnight I put on U2′s Beautiful Day, which was very popular at the time.  Everyone sung and danced along.  New Years was back and I couldn’t of been more happy.

2003-2004( The Dark Years): For 2003, and 2004 New Years was held in Harwington at Cooter and Gruzzy’s place.  I’m lumping these 2 together because as far as I’m concerned it’s basically the same party repeated twice.  I honesty have memories from these parties but I can’t distinguish between the 2.  I remember being really sick for one of them. I remember gruzzy flipping out cuz someone had fallen asleep in his bed, I remember Adam passed out under a desk, but I don’t know where or when these instances occurred.  I have very vivid memories of every New Years except these 2.  I know I had fun, I know everyone came, but these parties just seemed more ordinary than a typical New Years bash. Eh, maybe it’s because I was strung out on Vicodin.

2005: The 10 year anniversary was held at the Jewett’s in Danbury.  Simply put, it was a good time.  I was disappointed that Bub was sick and couldn’t go, and that Tai couldn’t go cuz his scary girlfriend wouldn’t let him, but other than that I have no complaints.  Played a little beerpong, played some poker and some setback until the wee hours of the morning.  As much as I love cards I just feel I should’ve partied more this year.  I feel like I was a bit unsocial at this New Years.  Who knows, maybe it’s because I had nothing to say to Jewett’s boring teacher friends.

2006: Goddammit it’s time for a change!! I’ve always said I fear change, but like Keely always said to me, “Walt, you need to grow up!” This year for the first time in the history of New Years, we are going out.  No more house parties for us.  A group of 10 are venturing to Boston to explore the unknown, a New Years Eve on the town.  Thanks to Erin Peck.  Her college friends are renting out a bar, Mr Dooley’s right in the heart of Boston.  For $80 I can eat and drink all the Red Bull and Vodkas I want.  I’m a bit disappointed that all my friends can’t be there, but I’ve grown to accept that fact over the years.  Part of me is hoping that by doing something different on New Years Eve, maybe I can recapture a bit of that magic that disappeared after 2000.  Or maybe not, maybe it’ll never come back.  But I suppose that’s okey.  I suppose it’s the memories that are important.  Good times or Bad times, I can’t wait to make some new memories Saturday Night.  Happy New Year Everyone!!!

 My Grandfather John died 10 years ago today.  He died on a Friday, 3 days before what would of been his 72ND birthday.  In the years following his death, especially the holidays, it was very odd not having him around.  His empty seat at the dinner table was eerie.  But now, 10 years later, it seems more normal not having him with us.  Almost like it’s always been this way, and the man I knew for 18 years as “grampy” is just a surreal memory.

I know this is how it’s supposed to be.  Grandparents die.  I once had a college professor say, “If I had a nickel for every time someone told me a grandparent died, I could retire” I think I’ve actually used the excuse myself.  Not only to miss classes, but especially to miss work. I guess to most people grandparents are the ones who spoil you while you’re young and then become a burden to visit as you get older.  Trust me I know.  I kinda got that exact thing going on with my grandmother right now. But that’s another story.

I believe my childhood with grampy was a bit different than most. My grandfather voluntarily retired early so he could take care of my sister and I while our parents worked.  Instead of going to daycare or to a babysitter, everyday after school we’d go to grampys.  I didn’t know how special it was that he was doing it for us back then, I just figured all grandparents watched the kids.  Little did I know how unique our situation was.

My grandfather couldn’t cook so he’d take us to burger king for supper.  He wasn’t a big fan of cartoons so we’d spend the day watching Green Acres and All in the Family reruns.  Although I think he liked Scooby Doo.  He was old and couldn’t really “rough-house” with us, but I do recall him taking us to an indoor mini golf course on occasion and most often the local park.

I remember my grandfather always made jokes. Thinking back now, they were actually pretty lame, but I know he was just doing it to make his grand kids laugh. He loved to play games with us, whether it be hide and seek, bingo, or a number of card games like war, old maid, or go fish. 

Yes, I can honestly say in the years before my sister and I made friends with other kids, and got involved in school activities, grampy was our best friend.  I don’t think we took anything for granted. We simply assumed that this was the way all kids had it. I know my grandfather was happy just having us around.  Whether or not we truly appreciated it did not matter to him.

I remember when I left home at age 18 for college my grandfather had tears in his eyes.  His mind was going, and he no longer drove or left the house, but he was still able to realize that I was leaving and it meant he’d be seeing me less and less.

When I came home for my Christmas break, the man I once knew in childhood as my best friend was no longer there.  He was still alive, but he was so sick he couldn’t interact with the family.  He spent his days in bed and quite honestly I didn’t mind.  I felt bad for his condition and seeing him in that state was heartbreaking.

It was February 16th 1996.  It was the middle of the night.  I was sleeping soundly on the bottom bunk in my dorm room.  I remember feeling an odd sensation in my chest.  It wasn’t pain or discomfort.  I almost felt like there was a small balloon inside me, and it popped, and out came this odd little ball of energy that sorta numbed and warmed me.  The feeling lasted for about half a second.  Although it was brief it was noticeably unfamiliar.  As soon as this sensation was gone I heard a voice in my head that said “someones gone”  To this day I don’t know if I was dreaming or not.

I was awoken later that morning at 7:30 by the phone ringing.  I didn’t move.  The voicemail picked up.  Tai, my roommate at the time, got out of bed to go listen to the message.  I lay still in bed not letting him know whether I was awake or not. 2 minutes later I heard Tai walk up to my bed.  He stood there, I suppose not knowing what to say.  I turned over. “I should probably call home huh”  Tai looked a little bewildered by my comment, but he quietly said, “Yes”

It was no surprise what my mother told me, “Grampy died”  I felt numb, but I wasn’t in shock, and I didn’t cry.  I was sad grampy was gone, but I had a deeper sadness for my father.  My father had always been strong but I knew this was gonna be tough for him.  An hour later, after I showered, I called my sister.  “Are you okey?” I asked.  Her voice began to crack. “I’m fine…..I just feel bad for Dad.”

It started snowing by the time I was back home.  It snowed the whole weekend.  I didn’t tell anyone about my grandfather right away.  I guess you could say I was embarrassed to see people.  I didn’t like the idea of friends and loved ones hugging me and telling me how sorry they were.  It’s not the loss that bothered me it was the emotion and support from everyone that I couldn’t deal with. That’s what made me uneasy. I was afraid that’s what would make me cry.

My grandfather’s funeral was on a Monday morning.  The snow from the weekend had stopped.  It was a sunny day.  It was strange going to my grandfathers funeral on what would of been his 72nd birthday, but I guess that’s just how it works sometimes.

The wake and funeral were hard, especially seeing all my father’s co-workers, our neighbors on the street, and all the old men and women my grandfather grew up with.  Oddly, at the same time, it was a great sense of relief.  Adam and Tai came to the funeral and it felt good having them there.  My mother, who had been divorced from my dad for 15 years, was invited to sit with the family.

After the funeral everyone came back to our house.  People ate, drank coffee, and told stories about grampy.  The uncomfortable weight that had been in the house for the past 2 days was gone.  I left for college with Adam and Tai later in the day. I slept the whole way back…

There were some hard times down the road.  Holidays especially.  Or when my Grandmother would run into one of my grandfathers old friends and they’d start to reminisce. But eventually, like it’s supposed to, everything got easier.

  Now 10 years later, as I stated, it’s hard to remember “exactly” what it was like having grampy around.  Sometimes I dream about him.  The dreams are weird.  In the dreams he’s back from the dead.  I never dream of old times.  It’s always present day, and Grampy’s there, and as much as he tries to interact with me in the dream, I’m always telling him, “You’re not supposed to be here….You’re supposed to be dead”

So that’s it.  My first experience with death was tough.  But it’s tough for everyone.  I don’t think for one second me losing a grandparent is any different than anyone else losing someone.  But grandfather or not, old man or young, sick or healthy, weak minded or strong, I loved him.  I appreciate the sacrifices he made for me and my sister as we grew up. I don’t have to look back and worry about whether or not he knows that.  For some reason I just know he does…

I believe it was my third or fourth time seeing The Sampes.  I was attending the concert with Keely, Ericka and their roommate April.

We arrived at Toad’s Place about an hour before showtime.  We had a few drinks, looked around, checked out the display tables, basically we did nothing. 

It wasn’t long before we realized we hadn’t eaten any dinner.  Samples shows usually lasted 2 hours plus, and to go that long without dinner meant one of 2 things: We’d either end up really drunk or just really tired and cranky….or both I guess.

For some reason, since I was the one guy in the group, it was decided that I would leave Toad’s place and see if there was someplace close we could all grab a bite to eat.  I was somewhat against the whole idea.  I thought if we left the bar, went to a restaurant, sat down, ate, we’d miss the beginning of the show.  But none the less, I’d do the honorable thing and try and go find food for the women folk.

As soon as I stepped out onto the New Haven street I saw none other than Samples lead singer Sean Kelly.  Without hesitation I blurted out, “Hey Sean, can you play Nature?‘ “  I said this for 2 reasons.  One, it was one of my favorite Samples songs and I’ve never heard them play it live.  And 2, it’s also one of Bub’s favorite songs, and he bumped into Sean outside a show and asked the same question: “Sean, will you play Nature!” Sean’s response to Bub, “Sorry, Nature’s dead man”  I always found that rather funny and I was eager to see if he’d say it to me.  No such luck.  Instead, Mr Kelly smiled politely, and said “Sure, we can do that for you” and with that he disappeared onto his tour bus which was parked right in front of Toad’s Place.

I continued on my mission to find us food.  Lucky for me about 3 doors down from Toads was a small little pizza joint with a sign on the window that said “Slices To Go” Perfect!  I went inside and ordered 4 slices.  This would solve all our problems.  It would save time, we wouldn’t risk missing any of the show and it would fill us up nicely. Little did I know this was about to cause much more problems than it would ever solve.

I carried the slices back down the street to the bar.  There staring me in the face was a sign on the door that I’d never noticed before: “Absolutely No Outside Food Or Beverage May Be Brought Inside” Shit.  I was a little frustrated.  However I figured I’d just sit outside and eat my Pizza and eventually one of the girls would come out and we’d eat.  And that’s exactly what I did.  It took me about 3 minutes to whoof down my slice.  But nobody came outside.  These were the days when cell phones weren’t owned by every living, breathing ,human being.  Only a select few had phones, we did not!

I considered just leaving the Pizzas outside and going inside to get the girls.  But I knew better than that.  If I left the 3 slices outside while I walked inside they might get eaten.  Or worse, spit on, or have a cigarette died out on them. But seriously, who was I kidding, even if nothing at all happened, Keely and Ericka would NEVER eat a pizza slice that had been left out in the streets of New Haven unattended. I wasn’t ballsy or drunk enough to ask some stranger to hold 3 slices for me.  No, I was lost, desperate, and getting frustrated because the clock was ticking.  You know what they say, Desperate times – Desperate measures!!

For some reason, I had the bright idea to “sneak” the pizza slices into Toad’s Place under my shirt.  The inside was dark and crowded, so I figured the girls could just eat the pizza slices and no one would be the wiser.  I tried for roughly 5 minutes to fit all 3 slices under my shirt without making it obvious that I was concealing something and more importantly without making a mess.  The more I tried, the more obvious it looked as though I was hiding something.  Finally, after many twists, turns, tucking, and un-tucking, I thought I’d done it.  I momentarily thought, if I get caught I’m getting kicked out of this show.  But I was determined NOT to get noticed.  Just as I was about to reach the doorway I felt a very sharp pain on my stomach.  Dammit! The cheese was burning me.  I couldn’t help but say, “ahhhhh”  This odd little display got the doorman’s attention.  We made eye contact.  ABORT MISSION!!  Fuck this!

Now I was pissed.  I had 3 slices of pizza in my hands, my stomach just got burnt, the show was about to start and the fucking girls weren’t coming outside.  In my frustration, I simply sat on the stoop next to Toads…and ate all 3 slices of Pizza.  At least I’d be full.  At least I’d have a good time!

I casually walked back inside.  I found the girls.  “What’d you find?” Keely asked.  “There’s nothing around here” I said matter of factly.  Keely looked at me strangely.  “Ah, don’t worry about it, we’ll just drink” Ericka said.  Keely and April simply shrugged their shoulders.  Before there could be any more discussion on the matter, I distracted them from their hunger pains by telling my story of meeting Sean Kelly and how he said he’d play “nature” for me.

Sure enough, The Samples opened the concert with Nature.  I’m sure it was already a planned part of the setlist, but it made me feel important. As far as I was concerned Sean added the song in at the last second because I said so!   For the next 2 hours we danced and sang along to a great show.  Then during the encore, everything changed…and took a turn for the worse.

The Samples have a simple stage set up.  It’s basically just 4 guys in a band, jamming.  Except for the video screen that’s put up behind the stage.  Through out the show, the video screen plays images of the band through the years.  Pictures and movies of them on tour, on the Tonight Show, partying with friends and family, and basically just having a good time.  But!… But!… During one of the last songs of the night, “Did You Ever Look So Nice”, they show images from that evenings show.

Members of the band have cameras with them, they take footage of the crowd before the show, and then the road crew takes video of fans during the show, finally, as The Samples perform, the tech guys edit all the footage together and play it for the audience during the bands last few songs of the night.

I felt like I had eaten a brick.  If I was drunk before, I was instantly sober now.  If I was having the best time of my life before, I was suddenly having the worst.  There up on screen was my whole “Pizza adventure” There I was, as plane as day, trying to stuff pizzas under my shirt, then trying to sneak them in the bar, and finally, there I was in front of 250 people stuffing my big fat face with 3 slices of pizza.

Someone on the Samples tour bus had filmed the whole fucking episode. I first glanced to my left and right.  Some people were laughing, some didn’t notice, which I guess was good.  But Keely, Ericka, and April, who were in front of me dancing when the song started, weren’t dancing any more.  They stood perfectly still, watching the screen, probably not believing what they were looking at.

Ericka spoke first: “There’s nothing around here huh?” Then Keely looked at me, obviously embarrassed to be standing next to me: “You’re and Ass”  They both turned back toward the music and continued dancing.  It was only April’s words that were somewhat comforting, “You’re on TV, that’s pretty cool.”  And then she continued her dancing.

We walked out of the show 20 minutes later.  As we spilled onto the cold New Haven streets, I kept thinking how stupid I must of looked up there, stuffing my face.  But the girls weren’t talking about it.  Instead they were recapping how good a show it was.  Cool I thought, No big deal. That was until someone bumped into me.  Some hippie dude.  We made eye contact.  He looked at me for a second and then spoke: “Hey, how was that pizza!” His group of friends began laughing.  I think I heard one of the girls in the group say “hey, that’s mean”  I glanced at Ericka, she rolled her eyes.  I glanced at Keely.  She had only one thing to say, and she’d said it before: “You’re and Ass!”

That’s true.  I was an ass.  A big selfish ass.  But at least I wasn’t hungry.

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.