From the Back of my Brain

I lost my faith in a higher power for the first time when I was sixteen.

The summer after, I interned at a visitor center at a national park.  Ministers of different denominations would come into the park and put on services in the amphitheatre.  I worked alongside this older ranger, his name escapes me now.  When visitors would come up and ask him when and where the services were taking place, he would snap his response and get really irritated.

One day I asked him why he was so ornery about visitors going to services at the park.  He responded with something like, "They are here in one of the most beautiful places in the world.  You want God?  Go fucking pray to a tree."

I am not sure why that has stuck with me over the years.

Answering the Call

Sitting in my closet yesterday, I was looking through a picture album of friends and thinking about how near and far they are to me now, both physically and emotionally.  I am lucky and love-rich that many of my nearest and dearest for the last 10-20 years are people I can still call in the middle of the night if need be, no questions asked.

The way friendships start and end at different measure is strange.  I have had fast friends and have also cultivated closeness with folks over the distance of many years.  The latter have turned out to be some of my most valued and true friendships.  I have lost touch bit by bit with people with whom I was once inseparable.  Also, I have had the uneasy experience of quickly dropping out of or being dropped out of someone’s life.

A couple of weeks ago I had a friend come into town for a short visit.  She was a neighbor of Bobaloo’s when he and I were dating.  Bobaloo and I would often sit on the deck having beers and listening to tunes and she and her husband would come over after work.  Slowly but surely, after three years she became quite a close friend.  She was someone who became unwaveringly thoughtful, compassionate, and protective towards me.   I offered the same friendship to her.  I look back at those times on the deck and think of a happy, happy stretch of life.  Meeting her was providential circumstance.

We have seen each other a couple of times in the last seven years, the last being four years ago.  Marriage happened, babies were had, and moves, school, and everything in between began to take up the adulthood of our lives.  Eventually, even our infrequent phone calls came to an end.  Our friendship became a yearly Christmas card.

She came into town a couple of weeks ago for a conference and we made plans to get together and catch a few drinks downtown.  Even though some years had passed since I saw her last, I was more excited than nervous to see her.

So, after Bobaloo and I navigated our way to a parking spot in the city and entered the crowded bar I sent a text letting her know I was there.  After a few minutes a familiar embrace from behind my shoulders was followed by a familiar voice.  We found a place to sit.  Pictures were shown of children, school and work updates were exchanged, and some of the more somber happenings of our lives were shared.  Life had moved on, but not between me and her.  We picked up just where we had left off, chattering away.

We headed to a tavern later and smoked cigarettes on the patio.  I apologized for not being better in touch and told her I missed her.  She told me that even though we don’t speak on the regular that she knows she can always call me when things shake down and that I will always answer.  She thought it was an unspoken understanding between us two.

I am lucky to have the kind of pals who will answer my call.  And it’s nice to know now, that I am that friend to someone too.

The End of an A-Ha Era

I read some troubling news on Friday. A-Ha is breaking up after one last tour. I am devastated and overcome with both grief and uncertainty. Now don’t get me wrong, I cannot name any of their songs besides “Take on me,” but I feel that song helped shape me as a person in some way.

When I was a child I was transfixed by the music video longing to live in a world where morphing into a comic book character in a world of illustration was possible. Their catchy chorus was easy enough for my youthful brain to wrap around. The happy beat infected the heart of my soul and I would dance.

As I got older, “Take on me” became, well, kind of a guilty pleasure. If I was in the car alone, I would rock out while singing the lyrics without inhibition. There's just something about the tune that gives me absolute joy. If I was amongst my friends, I might have just hummed along calmly.

These days I sing it loud and proud. I car-dance to the melody if I need to. The song is in my iPod putting a skip in my step when it comes on and I am walking home from the bus stop. I can say it goes down as one of my top ten favorite songs in pop history.

So A-Ha, as you retire to enter the next stage of your lives please know you have been in the background for every stage in mine.

Thanks.

Flinching

I dropped out of college after one week. I was in Fargo which was a telltale factor, and my resident advisor tried to save me. We had a “divine appointment with God.” I can chalk the whole experience up now as too much, too fast, too soon. Back in those days I wanted change so much, but flinched when it actually came to pass.

When I told my dad of my plans to drop out he understood and said something along the lines of, I know what it’s like to be somewhere you don’t want to be. He picked me up from Fargo and the ride back to Minneapolis was the longest (and quietest) I have ever experienced. We even stopped and ate Chinese food. During lunch, there were no lectures, no evil looks, and most importantly, no questions. As long as I wasn’t running away from something, I was able to go home.

But what was I running to? At the time, the last place I wanted to be after North Dakota was at home with my parents; I wanted out of the suburbs. I think I wanted to find myself, but that September instead of books and pencils, I got a job assembling cables for a neighbor. As the months grew colder I slid into desolation and despondency. I thought my life was tragic and I extracted myself from the world I thought I would live in.

I became a townie. I had two friends who stayed in town after graduation and the three of us would go to Denny’s every Tuesday and then catch some TV and play cards. My weekends were spent going back and forth to visit a good friend away at college. I lived in the suburbs; I made friends in the suburbs, partied in the suburbs, and lost myself in the suburbs. I hung out in Wal-Mart parking lots and went to the city to cruise. I went to bonfires, house parties, and the refinery to watch it twinkle like Emerald City. Somewhere along the way I even got banned from a country line dancing bar.

These days I don’t regret not getting a traditional education. Sure, dorm life would have been a hoot and I would have my diploma on a mantel somewhere near a cap’n’gown picture with my parents. A year and a half doing cable assemblies does teach you the importance of education. As a grown-up I take community college classes when I can and hope to get a four year degree by age thirty.

It’s hard to put my finger on what I learned from coming of age in the suburbs. It know it wasn’t street smarts or anything. I guess there were a few lessons. Sometimes you need your family when you don’t want to. Sometimes unlikely friends will become best friends before you know it. Sometimes you can fight to get out of the city you grew up in and come to miss it when you leave.