With Just Three Days More...

So here I am out of town, at the computer of the man who puts the J in Baltimore, with him reading about Paris Hilton in the other room.  I am listening to Verdi Cries, one of the songs he introduced me to, along with an overall appreciation for 10,000 Maniacs. "Like The Weather is the most cheerful song I've ever heard about depression," he said, "'Oh I'm so sad but the song's so happy...'"

After all the years that have gone by, I find conversations with my best friend now resume as if they'd never finished. And so, here we sit on a lazy Saturday, and I know I should write something serious but mostly I find myself on the familiar home turf where I came out, a block away from the bar where I first danced, reading the gay paper still edited by the man who gave me my first writing job, and generally reveling in the beauties of a Spring day.

RedStar thinks there's too much sniping passing for friendship on tv, but my friendships - including Red - have that tension naturally.  Certainly, J and I exchange all kinds of barbed insults (and discuss Red's friend, whose last name is the letter I, pronounced E - only Jim could bring me to realize that in fact, his name is not spelled as it sounds, reducing us to fits of giggles). After all this time, we realize, though, that it's just talk - and the caring, well, it never really goes away.

So good morning from the land without a lot of Starbucks. So what if the one coffee place we went to couldn't figure out how to open on time (at 9 - when we open daily at 6 with only 15 minutes of prep!); the one we did eventuially go to made a nice latte (even if cute coffee boy couldn't pull the shots properly). Now that I am Coffee Boy (I think Red will appreciate the irony of that one), I know these things.  But for a few days, I am just the weboy I used to be. With just 3 days more, I'd have just about learned the entire score to Aida. Oh well. J is making me go to the gym. 

Comments

[Jennifer]

Gorgeous photos, J.
It reduces me to fits of giggles that there was no Starbucks for Weboy. :)

[Leigh]

I used to sing Verdi Cries in the outfield when I played softball in middle school. There wasn't a lot to do out there; not so many junior high gals were slugging out to center field. I love that song, and that album!

Enjoy your own executive holiday!

[jinbaltimore]

Thanks, Jennifer...yes, after yesterday's coffee conundrum, he's insisting on Starbucks today.

I remember the outfield too, Leigh...was a good place to meditate.