Monday, January 23, 2006

Again. By Dave M.

The song “Again” by Lenny Kravitz reminds me of Cape Cod Massachusetts. The little swath of land jutting into the Atlantic Ocean creates a wonder vacation haven for greater New England, it is the site of one of my best and most memorable summers. Unfortunately there are too many people connected to that cape that I will never see again. There is no need to wonder as Lenny does throughout his song, I just know I will never see most of those people again. I have even called some just to say “hi” but there was never a response to the message I left. Some, I’ve never called, but should. I even promised one friend that I would not return without stopping in to see him. But seven years later I did. I drove by his house and I didn’t stop. I drove by a lot of houses on my return trip, but I didn’t stop at any of them, except for one. Uncle B is getting old, but he is still there. After I explained to him who I was and how I knew him he just blankly stared at me. He lived across the street from me in West Dennis, Mass. He is the great uncle of one of my best friends and we spent some time talking to him. He is probably in his eighties, he is permanently bent at the waist and he limps. It was an amazing occurrence, standing on his front stoop.

“Hey uncle B! How are you doing?”
“Huh, who are you?”
“It’s David, DJ’s friend.”
“DJ? Yeah. But who are you?”
“I’m DJ’s friend, remember we worked here for a summer, I’m from Michigan. I came back for DJ’s wedding.”
“Michigan?...I remember you, you’re a lawyer now aren’t you?”
“Well, yes that’s true.”
“I remember you, how are you doing? What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for DJ’s wedding. Can I come in and introduce you to my wife and daughter?”
“DJ’s wedding is next week in Falmouth.”
“I know that, but I’m here to visit you.”
“Oh. Well, Come in then!”

Sometimes it takes a while for him to comprehend, but if you are persistent you can get to the point with ole’ Uncle B. The fact that he didn’t remember me until I mentioned Michigan flabbergasted my sensibilities. It’s as if I’m the only person he ever met from Michigan likening it to some exotic South American rain forest village, so strange and far off that one would never forget the one inhabitant of the land that he met through some chance encounter years previously. The fact that he knew I had become a lawyer was interesting too. When I knew this man I was a drunk college student with no better sense than to drive a 10 year old Camaro across the country simply for the hope of securing employment only because I had nothing better to do. An accurate prediction of my eventual career path in 1997 would have garnered all the probability of picking the winning Mega Millions lottery numbers. Maybe that’s how he remembered. I can see DJ’s mother mentioning that DJ’s friend who lived across the street for a summer had become a lawyer and Uncle B’s jaw dropping to the ground as he no doubt thought to himself, “That crazy son of a bitch is a lawyer! What the fuck is going to happen next, the Red Sox winning the World Series?” As far as I can tell Uncle B’s life activities consist of talking to his nieces and watching the Red Sox. I wonder what he does in the winter.

But Mr. B is a side note to this story. He is just the one that I made the effort to actually visit. The others, the other drunks and dope heads that were and probably still are my friends, that’s a different story. It’s amazing how four months and constant contact can forged friendships that would last a lifetime if they were not broken by distance and lost phone numbers, by carelessness really. But that’s a lost point. The one I lament the most is my friend Ellie. And I don’t miss her the most simply because we never had sex or even kissed. If anything I helped her pursue her homosexual tendencies into a full fledged lifestyle change. I miss her the most because she was friendly and lovely; she liked to get high, sit around talking and reading poetry. Our connection was obviously facilitated by our mutual recreational drug use, but we carried an understanding of each other that I would pray lasts to this day. I would like to carry on that connection, if only I could ever encounter her again. Unfortunately, she seems to be gone.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Please Dave...Lenny Kravitz? At least the Doc references Zevon, a true Genius.

Maybe you lost contact with this girl because you stopped buying her dope.

qhunt said...

dave, again, another great tale told by a master of the art.

Anonymous said...

Thanks guys. It means a lot. While, Kravitz may not be as lyrically gifted as Zevon, at least he's not dead.

Surely Kagroo knows the identity of the mysterious Mancini. Live long brother, live long.

kagroo said...

This boom boom mancini is a mystery to us all. I wish this was a big plan for a HUGE April Fool's joke but it is not.

Anonymous said...

I have seen your face before my friend, but you don't know who I am.



...yeah, that was a Phil Collins pullout.

kagroo said...

Sweet...at the corner bar has it's first stalker.

Anonymous said...

I don't think anyone quoting Phil Collins can rightly be considered a stalker.

kagroo said...

Unless they are the Phill Collins stalker.