James
My son is named James. He was named after my dad. Mostly.One of my best friends is also named James. We met when I was in the 8th grade and we have been friends ever since. He moved to San Luis Obispo to attend college at Cal Poly. He moved to Albuquerque some time later and, to one degree or another, has been there ever since. For a time, he visited frequently and would stay with me whenever possible. So, even though we have only lived in the same city for 6 of the nearly 30 years we have known each other, we have stayed close. And since those 6 years were Junior High/High School years and we were thick as thieves throughout them, there is something to be said for intensity of experience.
So when the time came to dream up a name for my son, with Lisa's sweet and generous acquiescence, there was only one name I wanted. Because, even though named for my father, there is a certain percentage of that name that belongs to my friend.
He's the guy who cut class to go to movies with me most Fridays of my senior year. (A heartfelt thank you goes out here to Mr. Mooradian, our counselor who never checked the times on those passes to class. A secondary thanks goes to God, who gave James and I both last names that fell into the T-Z category so that we could have the same counselor. "What are you going to talk to him about today?" "I don't know...college I guess." "Yeah, we did that last week. I'm doing careers today." "Awesome. See you in the parking lot.")
He's the guy who taught me that you could buy soundtrack music. Thus he introduced me to John Williams. As an extension, he would later introduce me to Classical and New Age music.
He's the guy who hid in the backseat of my car when I took Janine Miskulin out. He popped his head up at the intersection of Shaw and Maroa and scared the living poo out of me. He was subsequently dropped off in the middle of a fig orchard miles from a phone. I didn't date for five years after that.
He's the guy who stayed with me for a couple of weeks following my divorce. He made me eat and play video games and occasionally go outside.
He's the guy who called me the day we found out that George Takei (TV's "Mr. Sulu") came out of the closet and instructed me to "set phasers to fabulous."
He's the guy who used to fight with me about which Guzman twin we would date when we both knew that they were completely out of our league.
He's the guy who was somehow responsible for me ending up on the roof of City Hall in downtown San Luis one night. In a similar incident he once coerced me onto the carousel at Magic Mountain, promising me that he had a plan, only to jump off his horsey at the last minute and stand there, smiling and waving, every time I passed him.
He's the guy who made me shoot Pepsi out of my nose once just by looking at me. That hurts, by the way.
He's the guy who used to call me and follow "Hey" with absolute silence. Once I refused to say anything either and we just stayed on the line together for about 5 minutes in absolute silence. I broke first.
He's the guy who would take my yearbook for an entire day and give it back with about 25 comments on various pages that still make me laugh when I read them.
He's the guy who introduced me to Pogo Possum, The Marx Brothers, and Hope & Crosby movies. The guy I saw "Raiders" with during the sneak preview. The guy who will, at random times, send me something new to watch or read by mail (such as "Firefly") and it will instantly become a favorite.
He is the smartest person I know. He has absolutely no pretense about him and no tolerance for it in others. He likes what he likes and doesn't really care what anybody else thinks about that.
He currently works for both your Uncle and mine both learning and training others in the techniques and technology involved in finding WMD's. He would tell me more about what he does but he doesn't want to have to kill me. Which he could, I'm convinced, with his left thumb.
Today is James' birthday. We'll be 41 together for about a month and then I'll move on. Happy birthday, bud. I love you.
posted by Thurman8er @ 3:38 PM
3 Comments:
Any good friend that you get into trouble (or avoid it) with is a good friend.
You had such an exciting adventurous life growing up! Thanks for your memories...they are precious indeed.
I'm glad you like "New Age" music.
This made me cry...sweet. Very Sweet
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