Posts Tagged ‘memories

02
Mar
11

it would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed.*

*editors note: I’m sick +  I want to ski today because I got a new jacket and want to show it off + I have “real work” to do = repost from a letter back in November. Enjoy. Again.

Dear Meghan,

I should state from the very start that I’m extremely grateful for what went down between the two of us for those amazing and gut-wrenching three minutes between us in the camp dancehall circa 1995.  If you hadn’t absolutely crushed me as a young teenager, we probably wouldn’t have the friendship we have today; which, as you must know, means a great deal to me.  However, that being said, I hated you with 100% of my soul for about two days.

It took an assload of courage for me to come up to you at that dance.  I was (my use of the past tense here is questionable) awkward, gangly, freckled, metallic (in the mouth region), but I will give myself some credit because I was the best tennis player at camp, as if I thought you might be impressed.  You, on the other hand, were/still are tall, hot, blonde, smart, sweet, southern belle who was the creme de la creme of the female camper population.  I’m pretty sure all of the younger male counselors wanted to ask you to dance that night as well, but apparently their jobs were too important.  Questionable decision on their part…crap food, crap pay, crap cabin…I think I would have sacrificed that for a dance with you.

There in lies the problem though, I didn’t need to sacrifice anything, for a dance anyway.  I sauntered up to you, actually that is complete bullsh*t; I walked timidly up to you, looked up into your eyes since you were already taller than me, and asked you out, and you surprisingly said, “yes.”.  It should be entirely clear to you now, I ASKED YOU OUT.  As in – Do you want to go out with me? Or, do you want to go steady with me? Or, as the old timers might say, may I court you so we can go necking in the woods later?  Unfortunately, you heard none of these.

What you heard, perhaps over some awesome mid 90s song like “Return of the Mack” or “Runaround,” was, “Will you dance with me?”  Well of course you said yes, we were relatively good friends and a dance was absolutely harmless.  We were like 13 or 14, it wasn’t as if I was going to try and make out with you like I did with this broad.  And so, we danced for a couple of minutes.  Me thinking that this was the beginning of what I was sure would result in my first boob grab sometime down the road; you thinking three minutes of dancing wasn’t going to kill you.

that could’ve been us…forever

Well, at some point it must have clicked, and you realized what I actually asked.  You broke our contact, and while very sweet about it, proceeded to stomp all over my heart.  I can’t quote you on what you actually said, because I was too busy trying not to cry, but I think it was along the lines of a bumbled, “I’m really sorry…I thought you just wanted to dance…I don’t want to go out with anyone this summer.”  Thanks for putting me down easy.  Of course, when you went out with JR (not the dude from Dallas) later that week, it stung a bit.

Was it the braces? Freckles? Did I have bad breath?  Oh, I know, you just couldn’t stand going out with someone who was better at tennis than you.  Seriously, it’s not a big deal, we would have never worked in the long run.  Something tells me a long distance thing back in the mid 90′s between to teens would have ended badly.  I still love you…as a best friend. Ok I gotta stop this letter now, I think that last line marked my first supremely cheesy line.

I’ll dance with you anytime,

Me

*High Fidelity

23
Feb
11

Dear Chunk,

I bet you never thought you’d end up on a blog like this, right? Where I waste all my time and hard-earned money reminiscing about females that for one reason or another, won’t give me the time of day. Well, thought it was probably a safe assumption on your part, I think we all know what happens when one assumes. No, they don’t make an “ass” out of “u” and “me,” because in no way does you ending up on this blog make you an ass, and it sure as shit doesn’t make me an ass. All it does is mean your assumption was wrong, I hate that effing saying.

Anyway, I was lucky enough to have watched you shine yet again yesterday. Even more fortunate – it was on bluray, on a high-def, 100+inch projection screen. Could it be possible that there was even more fortune involved…yes! There was good beer, good snacks, a few choice friends, and even some of that stuff that lots of people like in Vermont and it should be legalized, yet I digress. Bottom line is, it was about the 100th time I’ve watched you shout lines like, “I love the dark. But I hate nature, I HATE nature;” or, “Ok Brand, Michael Jackson didn’t come over to my house, to use the bathroom…but his sister did;” or even, “Hey Mikey this is great…all we have are old Chanukah decorations in our house.” (FYI, I did not copy and paste any part of those quotes, I knew them from memory…I can’t decide if this is a good thing or not). And you know what, dear friend, you grow on me more and more each time.

I think it’s because the older I get, the more complicated life becomes; and the shenanigans you and the rest of the Goonies get into simply remind me of a time when I didn’t care about things like health insurance, a career, or females. A time when I could get as much joy of making fun of my overweight friend as I could talking to a cute girl. Even yesterday, the friends I was with, well it was another guy and two girls. Both of us guys have some level of interest in one of the females we were with…but there was no tension, because we were watching a timeless classic about how effing sweet it is to be an innocent kid.

Maybe it’s all that…or maybe it’s just because seeing the “Truffle Shuffle” on the big screen was sweet.

Thanks man,

A fellow Jew

ps – If someone tries to get you to make “Goonies 2,” please say no. Thanks.




Letters sent…

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