Confessions of a Road Warrior: Always Wear Sensible Shoes

My Best Friend

She may not even know I feel this way (although there is a deep connection between us that seems to “know” these things), but I need to tell you about my best friend… a little 4-12 year old girl I knew back in the late 60’s and early 70’s. I talk about those days because it was those tight, but tough times we had growing up together that solidified my “best friend” status with her.

I’m a couple of years older, so when I hit about 14 or 15 I started moving off in my own direction, looking for girlfriends, hanging with the buds, etc. Of course that never stopped the friendship, just that it had become so concrete that we really don’t need to say it (we did hang out some in high school, playing trumpets together in duets… pretty good, I might add).

We can go weeks and months without speaking, but we still “know”.

As a matter of fact, I can’t remember ever even saying to her what I write here today. Maybe I assume too much?

There are ways to judge friendships and surely by comparing those that you have or had, you can figure out who is “best”. Well, to me, the number one characteristic of the relationship must be love… followed by (and actually is enveloped within) trust. Of all the people in my lifetime, this one little girl (now 44) is a person that I love dearly, but trust as much as any other person I know (more-so).

This little girl loves those around her deeply and gives her all in her relationships (many times to her detriment, for she is often taken advantage of). Her daughter is her most important responsibility and love (I am sure). She sacrifices in many ways so that Ms Milla can have the best chance to survive in this world (and I know my darlin’ niece loves her mom very, very much… you can see it in her, even read it on her Myspace page, or hear about the observation from Milla’s friends).

You see, I trust Julia more than all others because of that love we have for each other. Even more than my mother… especially more than my father.

But, I must admit, we are long time partners in crime. We have been taken to jail together when we were both younger than 12 years old (after having a shotgun blast scare the hell out of us).

We once placed tacks across a local road (hundreds) for some stupid reason, then hid and watched as cars drove over.

We started a fire in our back lot (just behind the house in a pine thicket) which damn near burned our house to the ground.

We stole a car when I was 8 (she was 6), a VW, at that, and drove it all over the lakes we lived at… skirting water and almost falling off bridges.

We smoked coffee and tea mixed once, experimenting (nasty).

I almost chopped her head off with a hoe, once and FREAKED out as she bled so bad (it WAS an accident caused by Dennice) we were all panicking (and wrapping her head in the old time baby diapers).

I have shot her multiple times with a BB gun and once threw a dart that stuck up in her head (it was her fault).

The one thing I knew about that little girl (and the beautiful woman she is today) was that I could trust her and she trusted me. When it comes down to the nut-cuttin’, we GOT each others back. When there is no one else we can count on, we know we have each other.

I have so many tales to tell about her (and may do at some point). But this ain’t no book.

I love you, my best friend, Julia Maria. You know that and I know you know that. But I want the rest of the world to know.

Lil’ Ear

 

Lil’ Ear’s Fortified Breakfast

I just gotta tell you about Lil’ Ear.

Tim is his real name, but where I’m from, no one goes by their given name (As a matter of fact, I am BuelahMan because Lil Ear named me that many years ago).  I used to hang out with Dog, LP, Skeeter, Elmo (or “Moaner”), Super, Hawk, etc. No one used their actual given name. I have been bequeathed many names, depending on my level of personal craziness/wildness (”Psycho Don” & “Honeybun Don” come to mind and deservedly so).

Anyway, Ear (Lil Ear’s shortened nickname when you weren’t in the presence of his uncle or cousins because one was the actual “Ear” then became “Big Ear” when the next “Ear” was born)…

Lil’ Ear Enjoys Fine Eats

I better start all over.

Many years ago in a land far, far away, there was this guy named Cale (but you never go by your actual given name, so someone named him “Ear”… he DID have very BIG ears in his old age, but that had nothing to do with the name).

So, early on Cale = Ear

Ear was fairly notorious around our parts for general craziness, pranks, and participating in a shindig or two. But Ear got married and had a son and named him Kerry (so a new “Ear” was brought into this world which promoted the original Ear to “Big Ear”).

Hence, now Cale = “Big Ear” & Kerry = “Ear”

Along comes Tim (Kerry’s younger cousin). Running out of “Ear’s”, they decided to call him “Lil’ Ear” and so the legend was born. He immediately earns his namesake of unmitigated craziness and previously unattained debaucherous “ear” behaviour.

Lil’ Ear’s Dinner

(On a sidenote, there was born another younger cousin several years later who inherited “Littlest Ear, or “Stear” for short. As wondrous is the Stear legend, nothing can measure up to my buddy Lil’ Ear.)

Lil’ Ear Does Take a Bath (every now and again)

Because I enjoyed many great New Year’s Eve parties with him (and witnessed the legend first hand many times), I want to recognise “Lil’ Ear” as one of the all time greatest party animals to have ever lived (at least that I know personally).

I Luv ya, Man!