Noshing With An Old Chum 

or oh my, look at the time...

Okay, so I had lunch the other afternoon with my best friend from college. He actually was my first friend at PP College. We met eons ago in July of 1979 standing in a long line at orientation. You do the math. All I know is I've known him longer than I haven't. It's curious when you realize you've known someone so long, you can't remember when they weren't around.

I remember he was about six inches shorter than me and looked like he was about 15 years old. He sorta insinuated himself into my conversation, but he was so entertaining we ended up having lunch together. He wrote me the funniest letters all summer. They were hilarious. I still have them...somewhere in the wreckage I call my home. When we caught up with each other again in September, I almost didn't recognize him. He'd grown at least seven inches and was now able to look me square in the eye.

Anyway, we started talking about how we don't feel old mentally, but have developed old-person syndrome crap like my crazy-crunchy lower back issue and his need for Lipitor. I'm going to start calling him Mean Old Mr. Wilson though, because he does absurd things now like argue at length with the teenaged video store clerk about why the original version of Goodbye Mr. Chips is filed in the musical section when it clearly is not a musical. Duh.

Best Friend From College: Do you realize this is not a musical?

Teen Video Dude: Wha?

BFFC: This is not a musical, but it's labelled a musical. This should be in the drama section.

TVD: So.

BFFC: You need to change the label so it doesn't get filed back with the musicals.

TVD: --?

BFFC: No one will be able to find it if it's in musicals.

TVD: They're labeled by the corporate office.

BFFC: So change it.

TVD: They're labeled by the corporate office.

BFFC: But it's incorrect.

TVD: (pause) Are you going to rent it?

BFFC: Well..no.

OMG. Ha Ha Ha! What the eff? When did this happen?

He kills me. Pretty soon he's going to be yelling "Hey you kids. get outta my yard!", firing off angry letters to cereal companies, wearing funny hats and hiking his pants up to his armpits.

Oh-Oh... Too late.

I kid, my friend. I kid because I love.