Nostalgia

It’s not coincidence that these pages are more or less completely bereft of anything in the way of personal anecdotes or information. Nor accident. I’ll talk anyone’s ear off about my thoughts on politics and culture and philosophy, and I admit that I am my own favorite topic of discussion. But I make conscious efforts to avoid spending much time reminiscing about the past; such trains of thought often go through long, dark, lonely tunnels. Generally speaking, the past is not my friend. Trips down memory lane are not warm fuzzy interludes, waxing nostalgic about better days. With a mind like mine, the past is more often a ghost that won’t leave me alone, or worse. Even now, years later, I have many things in my head, memories and feelings, that need to be either left alone, or else handled very carefully, so as to keep them from breaking loose, and running wild through my mind. In fact, I’ve got an extended spiel about that very subject (meaning the way my mind works) which I’ve not yet posted here, as part of my efforts not to get too caught up in Things Past. Or Things Lost, which is often times the same thing. That, and I’m not sure how people will respond to me explaining my general mindset, which – and this, for once, is not just egocentric exaggeration – would best be described as “functionally insane.”

But history caught up with me several times last weekend, in a trip to California. The trip included not just seeing people I’ve not seen for years, but also going back to places I’ve not been to for decades. Some of it was merely eye-opening. For example, walking around in Los Olivos, I saw the cheerleader princess who ruled over my high school graduating class; someone who wouldn’t have gone out with me in a million years. Now, a mere 13 years later, I’m living high as an attorney, spending a lot of time smiling, and I look at least as good (although in a different way) as I did back then. As for her… Well, the years have not been terribly unkind, they have been moderately unkind. I might need to actually go to a reunion, just to see what else has changed over the years.

The impetus behind the trip West was that Blake got married. Again. And more power to him. While I had never met his wife-to-be until just before the ceremony, and spent a cumulative 3 minutes talking to her over the eight hours following the ceremony, I like this one better than the last one. Karen is not a princess the way Ali clearly was. They look right for each other. The sound right for each other in the things Blake writes. Blake is the best man I know, and I’m glad to see him happy.

The Friday night before the Saturday wedding, after spending eight hours in the car getting to the wedding location, I had weird dreams, most memorably one where I was Spiderman. And it was one of those episodes where he was facing a lot of villains, every one of them trying to kill him. It had been a long time since I’d had any dreams where people were trying to kill me. A long time. I haven’t missed them. But the weekend might have started better.

Going to Blake’s wedding meant meeting the old college crowd again, which was a mixed experience to say the least. Of course, there was no way I was going to miss it. An invitation from Blake gets responded to. Period. And I bring booze. It’s equally a given that I wanted to see Michelle again. I’d not as much as spoken to her since Blake’s prior nuptials, but some things never change, and it was good to see her, and to see her doing well. It was not pleasant dealing with the rest of the old crowd that was present. Things like Clint, for example. He and I were never good friends, but I like the man, and I have never – so far as I know – given him cause to dislike me. While I don’t greatly care that he doesn’t think highly of me, it bothers me that he might have questioned my presence there, which I suspect he did. But c’est la vie. I understand his position, and still like him.

And, of course, there’s Jeff. As I said, I understand Clint’s position, and I’ll wager Clint merely rolled his eyes about my being there, made no great issue of it, and he was cordial when we met. He did not go out of his way to speak to me, but neither was I a pariah in his eyes. Jeff, on the other hand. Although he was busy seeing to his Best Man duties, he was nothing but cold over the course of the evening, right up until his early departure – which departure at least some people suspected was due to my presence. Perhaps it was. According to Blake, Jeff dislikes me because I’m a reminder of the way that Jeff should have been vis-à-vis Michelle, way back when. I’m not sure I buy that, but that might just be because I have problems wrapping my mind around the idea that Jeff might have any doubts at all about Michelle, her feelings, or their history. It is largely inconceivable to me that he might have any insecurities about her. He is a smart man, and I think he should know better. Has he not been paying attention the last 10 years?

In retrospect, and setting aside the fact that she was never interested in me, whatever actions we undertook back then resulted in the situation today. Really ends all discussion as to who was playing it right. If the ends reached dictate the propriety of the course, I applaud his actions, which won him so great a prize. Not to say that I thought so at the time, and not because I was among the losers in that chase. The only ill will I have ever had for Jeff comes not from the fact that he won Michelle, nor even from the fact that he dislikes me. There are only two things he has ever done which upset me. First, there are the tears Michelle cried because of him. But that was a decade ago. Long since overshadowed and overwhelmed by the happiness he has given her in the meantime. She glows when she’s with him. She always has. And their son is beautiful. As I’ve often said before, I’d not change things, even if I could. The other thing that upsets me is that he questions Blake’s friendship with me.

That he does not like me saddens me. He is a good man – far better than I – and I respect him. I think that in a nearby parallel universe, we are good friends, and I sometimes wonder how things might be if history were even a little bit different. I believe and hope that his early departure over the weekend had nothing to do with me, but if it did, I apologize to him. And to Blake, for depriving him of his Best Man. I hope it was not because of me, and partially because I would not be able to understand the underlying ‘why.’ Blake says, half jokingly, that if I had to give him half my liver to save his life, I would be there as soon as I sobered up. He’s right. I would, and I'd give more than just half, should that be what it takes. I would do the same for Michelle. The funny part, especially since I am absolutely serious as I say this, it that I would do the same for Jeff as well.