Saturday, October 10, 2020
dave, how many memories we had in our pre-high school .years together, mrs. formica our sixth grade teacher, our concert for chief Eukers, the navy recruiter who drove out to see us, getting free sodas from the gas station dispenser, helping each other with our paper routes and covering each other when needed, going to the assumption and sitting in the pews squeaking our leather jackets sonically in the unoccupied church for the best reverberations, buzzing the bushes crashing our bikes into the greenery out front, listening to your favorite fats domino records and arguing what's better: fats and many other artists versus group harmony' sounds, introducing me to country and western, all the musical hours we spent hanging together ploting our next activity when there was '"nothing to do", meeting up to the manchester gang for more with their "nothing to do", dreaming of our lives in the navy, after seeing "victory at sea" on our 12" screen tv sets and neither of us ever going navy, rather, coast guard and air force, and remember the guffaws and groans at the altar boy meeting when father butler announced the assigned masses, the rousing chuckles and grumbles when he said: "kittle and calnen", and recall dripping a bit of altar wine on our fingers, then licking it off, from a kneeling position, who needed water, and donuts, wow, couldn't; get enough of them. someday we'll meet up again and you can remind me of all the glorious memories you can recall and we'll find the time in eternity to pproperly reminisce, RIP, buddy
bobc
