Was That Me?

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A weird day.

Getting my paper this morning I ran smack dab into two women discussing my book, Nobody's Home. they loved the story, it should be a movie, how much money did you make, you should go on Oprah...all of it.

What got me about it is that as I told them about writing the story I got a strange vibe as if I were talking about someone else being the author of it. I loved the compliments, of course, and appreciate everyone who mentions the books to me, but I felt like an intruder in the conversation.

"Did I really write that?" I asked myself as I got back to my car.

And to top if off, I was heading to Erie and the place where I spent my college days. Good old Gannon University. That sign has been added since I graduated. In fact, the place has changed a lot.

But not enough to chase the weirdness.

The old dorm. The library steps, Rosie...the TKE house.

I walked all around campus. The walk seemed shorter. I passed the parking meters that we used to jump over, for fun. I wouldn't make it halfway up that meter these days.

Past the old house where I lived with Fluff and George and ten others, and the gals old house, past Antler's. It isn't Antler's anymore. Past the church and the dining hall.

I saw a lot of old faces along my walk. I passed a few of the photos on to Miller and Rosie. We traded texts.

Has it really been 26 years?

Was I really the guy who walked those streets in an alcoholic haze?

What about all of the old dreams?

Did I really think it would go that freaking fast?

I thought of Matt, away at school now...time probably moving slow...wishing he was home for the summer...wishing he was done and graduated...in a hurry.

We were all in such a hurry.

But today I walked slowly. I didn't have a choice, and truth be told, my heart hurt a little as I walked around. It wasn't regret that made me hurt, but rather a realization that the young faces passing me had no idea...how fast it all slips away.

I stopped in the cafeteria. I recalled seeing Miller there the first day. He gave me the finger. He'd probably give me the finger today too had he been there.

A young girl...and I'm talking really young...was at the register. She asked me if I wanted to eat, but I told her I was just looking around.

"I graduated in '86," I said. "At least I think that was me."

She looked confused.

"The theatre used to be next door, and Russell Hall...what happened to Russell Hall?"

"I don't know," she said. "I wasn't even born in 1986."

There wasn't a lot to say to that. I thanked her for the look around, and then I got in my car and drove away.

I thought of leaving Gannon at the end of '86. I was so full of piss and vinegar and Jack Daniels.

I'd write ten books! I'd get married to a beautiful wife and I'd have great kids of my own! I'd do all the things for them that my parents did for me! I'd teach them how to jump high enough to clear the parking meters, and how to live life and have fun! I'd teach them to be Yankee fans and to love Bruce!

I wrote the books.

Check on the wife and kids.

I provide for them the best I can.

They can teach me how to jump again.

The sadness drifted away as I drove away.

They don't all love the Yankees or Bruce.

I still have work left to do.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Could easily be the best blog post you've had in quite some time...
04 April, 2012
Larry L said…
This brought back many memories to me too. Thanks. My son turned 24 today, where did the time go?
04 April, 2012
Corleone said…
I think you have some insight there, Cliffy: Some of the best & worst in 26 years, too! You have all 26 to be proud of....God, Mom, Dad & Gannon did a good job!
09 April, 2012
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