Burgers and Buds...

I met my chum , Movie Man, for a tasty burger with even more delicious onion rings, last night. We hadn't been able to chat, face to face of late--so we were long over due. Movie Man, is just that--a Movie Man--he can tell you anything and everything about movies in the last 30 or so years--box office, director, producer, behind the scene stuff. He can tell you every movie we've seen together, plus the theatre and if the sun was up or not that day. Yea, sometimes I think he visits the Land of Oz more than he should, yet he's one of my bestest, goodest chums.

So we sat there last night. He listened to me ramble on. Movie Man will keep mental tabs of everything I say. I gabbed on about the 50th birthday bash from last week, threw out several names-he remembered them all. He's good like that. He gets kinda ticked when I don't remember as much. "Mad Cow" I say. I told him about my one classmate suggesting--urging me on to go into public speaking.

Movie Man agreed. He checked off a list of topics I could speak of. He even mentioned to speak about being the only black kid in my class of 150--how many people know about that? What did I encounter? Born with microtia. The writing. Losing my mother when I was 13. Movie Man was great---so supportive. Encouragment. Just like my classmate.

Only one major difference. A little eighteen year difference. Movie Man was born in August 1976. Three months after I graduated from high school.

We have our differences. Certainly. There are times I want to hit fast forward, so he'll grow up faster. Then I'm sure he wants me to re-wind so I can remember what it was like. Movie Man keeps me on my toes, even at times I want to kick him with them. He gives me insight of things, at a different point of view--a different generational point of view.

We went to Barack Obama's rally here in Dallas a few months back. Our discussion after was fruitful. Just as it was last night. It astounds me, how conversation with someone who was five years old when the first Indiana Jones movie came out and I was just thinking "Wow, Harrison Ford is hot and I wonder how much beer I can drink tonight?" can be so good.

Movie Man is more of man than he gives himself credit for. After all, after my surgery in 2006, he made sure I celebrated my birthday. I couldn't drive yet, so he picked me up, took me to lunch and made sure I enjoyed the day. We actually sat in a grocery store parking lot, while I gave myself my daily IV. He sipped a Mountain Dew. It couldn't have been fun, for him, to see a friend of his, impatient to regain her strength. Yet he made it through. We both did.

Now it's 2008. We chat. We laugh. We tick each other off. I still don't remember as much as he'd like. Movie Man still remembers everything. I asked him last night if he's up for some racquetball, since he injured his calf a couple months ago.

The kid says, 'Oh sure. I won't have to run around that much to beat YOU."

Yep, one of my goodest, and bestest chums.

Game ON!

...and another thing....

The dull roar you heard, this past Saturday night--was some members of the Class of 76 as they laughed. Yes, laughed because they couldn't see a picture on someone's camera phone. On came the reading glasses. For all of us. Hey, at least the picture was in focus then!

Was going to walk tonight...

I planned to walk tonight. I NEEDED to walk tonight. However, I lugged my trash to the curb, because tomorrow is Trash Day, watched Dancing With the Stars, and scripted a rough draft of a letter.

Yep--a letter. A letter to an Oldies stations back in my Midwestern hometown. I informed them how my high school class, the Class of 76--the Bicentennial Bunch turns 50 this year. And we want to celebrate--a mini-reunion as it were. My class had a Two Year Reunion after high school. That was special--and now turning 50 is special too. The kicker is, I would love my fave rock band, Three Dog Night to perform. We have no money in our Class Kitty--so if we can pull this off, we need help. Hence, my letter to the radio station.

Even if the radio station says no--we'll still have a party. We'll still be together. At 50, like we were at 18. Were we all best buds? Oh of course, not--we were NOT Walton's Mountain. Yet we've all been down and up. Some of us left us too soon.

This party will be in their memory--of our past, of the present--and where ever our future leads us....We ARE the Class of 1976!