Time Passages

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Sometimes when I leave my Mom’s home I’ll take the scenic route home through downtown Langford and down 75.

Driving through my hometown always affords me some great moments as the time passages take me through my memories.

Happened on Saturday when I passed the field where our little league games were played, way back in 1974.

I looked to the spot where first base used to be. Distinctly recalled my first ever base hit. 

I was 9 and up to that point in my athletic career, I’d struggled to make contact. I was on the Mets - we were playing the Cubs. I even recall the pitcher - my soon to be lifelong friend, Digger - who threw really hard.

I was down to my final strike when the impossible happened.

I made contact!

The ball went between the first and second basemen and into right. 

I heard my Mom yelling for me, and I safely made it to first and people were screaming at me to keep going.

I rounded the bag - well, almost - I tripped over the bag and went sprawling in the dirt.

“Get back! Get back!!”

At 59 years old, I relived the panic I felt as I safely made it back to the first base bag all those years ago.

Do you know why I remember that so succinctly?

Because it was monumental!

I smiled as I drove by, and I was off. 

(I know my mind and I understood that I was going to drive home thinking a lot about days gone by).

I passed the Johnson House - it’s not the Johnson House anymore, but that’s what it was called when I was in high school.

It’s still the place that served the best chicken wings I’ve ever had.

My buddy Jeff would pick me up on Wednesday night and we’d head up for the 10-cent wings.

Double-order, extra hot.

All the pretty girls were usually there on Wednesday nights, but that night the girls we had crushes on didn’t show.

I glanced to a spot in the parking lot. 

Jeff had parked in the back corner. He and I were in the car, getting ready to leave when we spotted those two specific girls, arriving, in separate cars.

What were the chances?

I even remember the song that was playing on the radio as they exited their vehicles and headed in:

“Beast of Burden” by the Stones.

We rejoined the party - even ordered more wings.

I smiled again - not sure why that very clear memory made the cut.

Across the street was the Langford Hotel.

Me and my buddy Chris stopped there one night after the North Collins bars had closed.

We didn’t need another beer, but when we entered the bar the bar owner slapped a $100 bill on the jukebox and bet Chris that he could not make every ball, in order, without missing.

If Chris didn’t do it, we were on the hook for $20.

Chris is the most competitive man I’ve ever met.

Ten minutes later, we had $100 to drink with.

More smiles!

As I got close to the golf course, a million more memories flooded my brain.

Golfing with all my best buddies, John, Tom, Al, Pops, Scotty - even a round with my Dad - and all of my brothers.

The house beside the course belonged to our classmate and friend, Carolyn’s parents.

Jeff and I stopped there every time we went golfing and bought golf balls from Carolyn’s Mom.

We always ate, drank, talked and laughed.

I said a prayer for Carolyn as I drove past, and then I took in the sign that welcomed me to the course.

Time flies on by, but it’s all right there for the taking.

I only drove about three miles from the little league field on by the golf course and my mind allowed me to cover about 50 years of memories.

Time passages.

Damn.

Wish I had a plate of those wings.

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