Watch our childhood Fly….
With Fifth grade came the recognition that two kids I knew from the bullshit kids’ football charade also lived up the block.
Dan was the heavier of the two, with dark hair and a musical curiosity that fit with mine. His neighbor, Bob, had been in Catholic school but now joined us ‘regular’ guys. Years later, his younger sister would follow this pattern, moving into fifth grade to have my mother as her teacher.
We bonded almost out of necessity. No other kids on our block were our age; and in the remaining two streets in our development, there was only one other boy. Playing together during recess and after school eventually led to summertime hanging out. Talking about life, girls, sports and teachers. Drinking, cars, weed, and getting hot action were a few short years away. But for now, we formed a threesome as we discarded toys and drifted into adolescence’s gentle current.
Dan had a younger brother who was always a pain in the ass. His father worked for the pharmacist I mentioned earlier, and his mom stayed home. Bob had an older sister as well, who was drop dead gorgeous. Funny how guys never thought their sister could be attractive. Years later, Bob’s tales of his younger sister trying to emulate her sister by wearing makeup, heels, and a bra (in fourth grade) became a consistent source of amusement. Bob’s father did something (we never knew); he appeared to be a weekend alcoholic.
Bob grew up tall and charismatic, a born leader. To this day, he had one of the strongest falsetto voices I ever heard. Only trouble was, he sang annoying Four Seasons singles. Early in high school, Bob suffered a career ending basketball injury. He then fell in love with a girl 4 years younger and like a storybook fable, he jumped off the high school bullshit train and married after she graduated. Dan discovered girls were drawn to him, like moths on cocaine. The joys of hanging out with the rich high school kids who played basketball beckoned, and we drifted after he ditched a really sweet girl just for the fuck of it. Last time I saw him, he was leaving for the five year high school reunion and I was going the other way.
But for now, we were 3 goofy kids on our little desert isle, listening to the wind and finding our way.