The Owld Speckled Un

28 Oct
Have you heard this one? Not Yeti!

Have you heard this one? Not Yeti!

This past weekend was as much fun as it was a blur. So nice to get out of Pittsburgh for a little while, for sure, but terrible to have to leave Columbus after only a few short hours of being there.

Everytime I go back I get to see my friends – sometimes there are oversites, though – So Sorry Domer – but nevertheless, I enjoy being back. The Short North, where I usually stay, has grown up quite a lot since I last lived in the area. It looks more like Olde Worthington, all growd up.

Fitz and I got to spend some fun time together, especially once it was no longer “Carolinetime”, which is a close relative of the Nelsonville TimeWarp. But I digress.

I always leave feeling a little melancholy that I no longer live in the area that I grew up a part of, but I think it’s because I leave an area that was a part of the history that once was. Allow me to explain.

Most people complain about high school. If you polled a group, any group, you might find that they hated high school. They were teased. They were unpopular. They were waaa wa waaa wa wa wa. (*Charlie Brown teacher voice) They were not what they wanted to be. But not me.

I loved high school. For the first time in my life I really felt like I fit in. Like I had a group. Like I belonged. Granted it was with a solid cast of 7 guys and various female and male subs as we navigated the mine field of growing up, high school and, for most of us, the marching band, but we really had it made.

We made it through ridiculous science projects, had fun times at school dances (anyone remember getting Domer on the Valentine’s court? Or when he forgot the PROM TICKETS???) and seriously enjoyed our senior lunches, with or without wing-dings and rides in Olsen’s van. Where is that beast now, I wonder? The Van. Not Olsen. I know where Olsen is. Relatively speaking.

DMB’s Crash Into Me is playing on my iTunes right now and I feel like I’m 14 again. Back on the drumline and waiting for Friday Night Football to get here, all the while riding around in a silver chrysler. It was such a good time in my life. And, even though I don’t say it, often or at all, I am so grateful to those 7 guys. The brothers I never had, but somehow got anyway.

It was nice to slip back into conversation with Ross this past weekend and I feel like I haven’t missed too many beats with Fitz – did you do the Monday Night Burritos??? I must know, Purple! -But I want more of it!

Ah. Challenge.

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