Inner Workings

[SaitoH]

Inner workings

I have many fond memories when I look back to my childhood. I consider myself fortunate in that respect. Sadly though, my childhood just a blur now, like a video tape on fast forward, with only the oddest of moments actually remaining in memory. Names and even the faces that I looked forward to seeing every day, often escape me.

I remember calling my father, scared, asking him to bring me my stuffed Big Bird. I was camping in a trailer, which was in the back yard of the next door neighbors house. My friend fell asleep and I got scared. I remember playing "doctor" with Cheeseburger, though I couldn't tell you why that was her nickname. I remember my second grade teacher, Miss Godbout, she was so pretty and even more kind. I almost got held back that year, I remember crying, but off to the third grade I went.

I look at old school pictures and although I can't place the name, everyone looks so familiar. Yet names like Paul O'hern, Michael Richmond, Keshore David, Karen Fielding stand out. Fuzzy, intangible, dream-like images of blonde curly hair ... glasses ... a pouty look ... are all I can recall.

My best friend in High school, Barry Keizer got married, I went to his wedding about seven years ago and haven't talked to him since. Odd considering how close we were. I remember getting drunk for the first time with him and his cousin Corey. We took a case of beer back to the cabin we built in the woods. The next morning we were pretty hung-over, so Corey grabs a bag of chips we were munching on the previous night, reaches inside and spazzed out. "God! what the fuck is that!", he yelled. As if on cue, a bat flew out of the bag of chips. Covering our heads, to prevent the bat from becoming entangled in our hair, we shooed it outside.

Growing up meant a lot of moving for me. My father was in the military, so we moved from place to place every couple of years. It was pretty hard for me to put down roots and I think it really impacted the way I relate to people, as an adult. Has my transient childhood turned me into an cold, aloof man, or am I just a cold person at heart?

The Japanese often refer to the "red string of fate" which links two lovers together. To me, the bonds of friendship are very similar. As a friendship grows, so the thread thickens and becomes rope. It's supple and able to withstand the twists that life so often provides, but sometimes, as strong and thick as the rope is, it can be brittle instead of supple and shatter like glass. Such is the nature of friendships.

As I've gotten older, not wiser, just older, I've realized that over the years I've lost contact with a lot of good people. It's truly sad, but that too has shaped the person I am now. Desperate to hold onto something, I find myself clinging to my friends, scared they'll disappear, like I did, to so many others in the past. It's made me nervous ... almost fearful of making a mistake and ruining a friendship, but still it happens. The bond becomes brittle, shattering and turning to shit like so much else in life.

I remember moving back east, receiving letters from Sharon and getting phone calls from Joe. I read the letters, I talked on the phone and that was the end. Those that had meant so much to me, faded from my mind. Is there a crime worse then forgetting?

So, If I try too hard, or cling too much, just remember that I put a high value on friendships. To me, they are worthwhile, meaningful and should be strong enough to handle the bumps life, so often, provides.

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zzzt

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"Ok, unplug the the second lead from the brainstem."

"Yes Doctor."

"IDIOT! Not that one ... now we'll have to reboot him ... and I had a date with Cheryl, tonight."

"Sorry, Doctor."