wedding and friends
Last weekend I was in fort worth for the wedding of my high school friend, Katherine. In high school, Katherine was the majorette. Brave girl, she twirled batons of fire!
My friend Lori was the heartbreaker, the boys loved her. She had excellent fashion sense, which is saying quite a lot for someone who came of age in the 80's.
I was in drill team, and in theatre and sort of juggled my way between various "groups". You could do that in small towns, no one really got stuck in a crowd for long. It did seem that people focused more on the fact that I was on the drill team, the Keller Indianettes, and that we were known for routines with over 100 high kicks that would send our little white boots flying across the football field at half time, than that I went to state prose reading. That's just Texas.
Kathy, Lori and I were like the three musketeers, we hung out every weekend, talked on the phone till all hours, passed notes, the usual stuff.
We also took ourselves and our friends out to Crazy Man's bridge and scared ourselves silly. Crazy Man's bridge was out in the middle of a field, it was hard to get to, and, of course very dangerous. The myth involved a bridge, a tractor, a young couple and a crazy old man and his wife. We'd drive out to the bridge until we saw or heard just about anything, headlights, a car horn, something in the bushes, a tree shaking in the wind, and we'd high tail it out of there as fast as we could.
That was how we went crazy in Keller, Texas back then. That and hanging out at the creek sipping from the occasional Tequila bottle someone got from their parent's stash. We had tequila with the worm in the bottom of the bottle, no one drank much,
at least the girls didn't drink much. Some of the guys tipped cows. Some of the crazier boys did chicken races and at least in my time there, no one got hurt.
Of our threesome, I was first to get married and had a baby super young. Lorie was married for many years before she had her first child, about the time my daughter was about to start high school. Katherine met her husband about a year ago and decided it was time to take the plunge. (I should clarify that I plunged in and swam back out and haven't plunged since, not that I won't, I just haven't.)
The wedding was like most weddings, it was beautiful, there were wonderful flowers and excellent cakes. Most of us looked puzzled when the preacher read about women submitting to the their husband, but, to each their own, I guess. (Maybe he read the wrong page?)
Best of all, I got to see my old friend, Steve and his partner, Ted. Steve was part of our gang, too. He was like family. He was the guy who'd go anywhere with us, who really listened to us, and who took part in some of our best adventures. He helped me release a bunch of dogs from the dog pound truck at the Keller Fair one year. He also led the group who rescued a friend's clothes from her house when her parents went crazy and refused to let her in the house or let her come and pick up her stuff. We waited until the crazy parents were out one night, then we waited until it was pitch dark and we broke in and got all her stuff before they got home. Exciting times!
Old friends remind you that you've always had someone there beside you, pushing you along, leading you into adventures and sharing some crazy times with you. It's pretty wonderful that seeing them again after many years, you can just pick up where you left off, feel that feeling of trust you had for them back when you braved Crazy Mans bridge and the comfort that gave you after your first broken heart.
Friends are the best thing in the world.
My friend Lori was the heartbreaker, the boys loved her. She had excellent fashion sense, which is saying quite a lot for someone who came of age in the 80's.
I was in drill team, and in theatre and sort of juggled my way between various "groups". You could do that in small towns, no one really got stuck in a crowd for long. It did seem that people focused more on the fact that I was on the drill team, the Keller Indianettes, and that we were known for routines with over 100 high kicks that would send our little white boots flying across the football field at half time, than that I went to state prose reading. That's just Texas.
Kathy, Lori and I were like the three musketeers, we hung out every weekend, talked on the phone till all hours, passed notes, the usual stuff.
We also took ourselves and our friends out to Crazy Man's bridge and scared ourselves silly. Crazy Man's bridge was out in the middle of a field, it was hard to get to, and, of course very dangerous. The myth involved a bridge, a tractor, a young couple and a crazy old man and his wife. We'd drive out to the bridge until we saw or heard just about anything, headlights, a car horn, something in the bushes, a tree shaking in the wind, and we'd high tail it out of there as fast as we could.
That was how we went crazy in Keller, Texas back then. That and hanging out at the creek sipping from the occasional Tequila bottle someone got from their parent's stash. We had tequila with the worm in the bottom of the bottle, no one drank much,
at least the girls didn't drink much. Some of the guys tipped cows. Some of the crazier boys did chicken races and at least in my time there, no one got hurt.
Of our threesome, I was first to get married and had a baby super young. Lorie was married for many years before she had her first child, about the time my daughter was about to start high school. Katherine met her husband about a year ago and decided it was time to take the plunge. (I should clarify that I plunged in and swam back out and haven't plunged since, not that I won't, I just haven't.)
The wedding was like most weddings, it was beautiful, there were wonderful flowers and excellent cakes. Most of us looked puzzled when the preacher read about women submitting to the their husband, but, to each their own, I guess. (Maybe he read the wrong page?)
Best of all, I got to see my old friend, Steve and his partner, Ted. Steve was part of our gang, too. He was like family. He was the guy who'd go anywhere with us, who really listened to us, and who took part in some of our best adventures. He helped me release a bunch of dogs from the dog pound truck at the Keller Fair one year. He also led the group who rescued a friend's clothes from her house when her parents went crazy and refused to let her in the house or let her come and pick up her stuff. We waited until the crazy parents were out one night, then we waited until it was pitch dark and we broke in and got all her stuff before they got home. Exciting times!
Old friends remind you that you've always had someone there beside you, pushing you along, leading you into adventures and sharing some crazy times with you. It's pretty wonderful that seeing them again after many years, you can just pick up where you left off, feel that feeling of trust you had for them back when you braved Crazy Mans bridge and the comfort that gave you after your first broken heart.
Friends are the best thing in the world.
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