Tag Archives: nostalgia

Love Exciting and New… BRING BACK THE LOVE BOAT!

Posted on February 13, 2021 | 6 comments

Come on, 70’s and 80’s kids! You know the words. Sing along with me! 🎶 Love, exciting and new! Climb aboard, we’re expecting you! 🎶 As a young, naive kid I never realized what a sexual innuendo that was. But now I do and I want more!

With Valentine’s Day being tomorrow, love is in the air and damn it, I wish it was in the sea as well. As someone whose childhood occurred in the 70’s and 80’s I have fond memories of watching the long running hit tv series The Love Boat. If you’re not overly familiar, it was obviously about a cruise ship with it’s regular crew, but the rest of the cast was different b-list celebrities each week that would play the roles of horny vacationers on a cruise trying to hook up. It was 250 episodes of 80’s corny cheesiness,  and it was good. 

Despite the fact that even before Covid, cruises were  already floating petri dishes of disease, people still love cruises and the cruise culture unlike anything else. Cruises weren’t the big thing when The Love Boat was on TV, but they are now. And that is why I’m creating this literary call to action. 

Remember all my claims of psychic abilities? Today, just out of the blue, The Love Boat popped into my head and I decided to watch an episode of it on CBS All Access during my lunch hour. After that stroll down memory lane,  I decided to write this post. Just now as I’m writing this on Thursday night, looking for pictures to use, I came across a news article about The Love Boat cast reuniting TONIGHT , live, to benefit a charitable cause. I swear on my own life that I did not see or hear anything previously, but there it is, the ghosts of Love Boat past were speaking to me. Also, in doing my research I discovered that Florence Henderson/Carol Brady was the most frequent Love Boat guest with 9 appearances. Coincidentally, if we’re playing six degrees of separation, I can be connected to Florence Henderson with only one person between us. Coincidence or fate? I think you know the answer to that. 

Artist Andy Warhol

At first it was just a whisper like a soft summer breeze through the willow trees and it said, Phil, we need you. Then I heard a ships fog horn in the distance. Then once  again Phil, we need you… When the universe speaks to me, sometimes I listen, so I replied: “Seriously, what the f*ck Rich!”  (Rich is my neighbor who sometimes talks to me through the hedge like Tim Allen’s neighbor Wilson on Home Improvement.)

1980 Tom Hanks

The voices replied, “If you build it they will come…”

And I was all like, “I don’t have a cornfield to mow down. Who is this?”

The voice said, “It’s me, Gavin McLeod, Captain Stubing. We need you Phil…”

“You need me? First of all, how are you talking to me? You can’t be a ghost if you’re not dead. Oh my God Captain Stubing! Are you dead? Did you die? Are you speaking to me from the other side?!!?”

Not Gavin Mcleod’s ghost replied, “No I’m not dead you idiot. This is 5G and my signal is fantastic. But we need you to bring back The Love Boat. 

“But I can’t bring back The Love Boat. I’m not some network big wig.”

With his signal fading Captain Stubing whispered, “You’re Phil. You can do this. And besides, I gotta go. I’ve got a booty call with Betty White. And trust me, there’s nothing like a little Betty booty….” and then he was gone. 

Fear not intrepid reader, I’m not going to nostalgically ramble on about a TV show from my childhood. I’m going to propose action. I want action from you and I want action from Netflix. I believe in you and I believe in me. I also believe in Netflix. Netflix brought us The Tiger King and now I want, nay demand, that Netflix bring us the king of the sea, The Love Boat. Let’s get the ball rolling by you clicking THIS LINK to go sign my petition at Change.org. 

Together we can do this! Use one of the buttons below to share to your social media until we get enough signatures to persuade Netflix to produce the new Love Boat! Come on! You know you want to! Share… your friends will think it’s a hoot. 

Have a great Valentine’s Day and may your love be exciting and new, just like all those Love Boat episodes! ~Phil

6 Comments

Posted in Humor, pop culture, Uncategorized

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The Jigsaw Man

Posted on May 31, 2020 | 11 comments

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon… ~Harry Chapin

The Jigsaw Man is my father. I call him that because he has Alzheimer’s and Dementia. I don’t actually call him that, but if I did he wouldn’t remember it five minutes later.

Why I think of him as The Jigsaw Man is because now his brain seems to be filled with puzzle pieces of his life, and none of them fit together any longer. It’s as if he has a hodge podge of pieces from different puzzles and he has no idea how to put them together again.

Every summer my family went camping with my dads parents and his brothers and sisters families. Every summer I watched my big brother and older cousins water-ski. I was dying to water-ski. I wanted to get out on the water and do all the cool tricks that the big kids were doing. 

When I was eight years old, my uncle took the boat out, letting out the tow line behind it. My dad sat back in the water holding the handle at the end of that rope with the tips of his skis poking out of the water. Then I climbed up on my dad’s shoulders and wrapped my arms around his neck. The motor roared to life and seconds later I was riding my dads shoulders at thirty miles an hour. That’s one of my puzzle pieces. I wonder if it’s one of his.

Oh, crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got ~The Living Years, Mike and the Mechanics

On Friday I had my dad placed in a memory care facility. He needs constant supervision, otherwise he might wander off. I know it’s hard to think of putting your parent in a locked facility, but it’s a very nice place and I’m comfortable with it. For years he had been cared for by his long time girlfriend who was at her wits end. Despite her emotional exhaustion, she had a harder time with the decision than my siblings and I. 

One thing that will forever make me think of my dad is the TV show Two and a Half Men. No, my dad didn’t love the show. In fact, I’d be surprised if he knew about it at all. In the picture above, see the higher one of the two framed posters on the wall? It’s a poster of Earl Hines, a legendary American jazz musician. I wish that I could have found a better picture of it. That poster was on the wall on that set every year that Charlie Sheen was on the show. When Ashton Kutcher showed up they redecorated. (How many of you even knew that in the last couple seasons they replaced Charlie Sheen with Ashton Kutcher?)  You may not know of Earl Hines, but in jazz circles he’s still famous enough that when my son went to college a few years ago they were still teaching Earl Hines songs to the jazz ensemble. So, why does a famous jazz musician remind me of my dad?

On a snowy December night in Syracuse, N.Y. in the early to mid 1970’s my dad was on his way home from working late and he saw a car broken down by the side of the road. It was Earl Hines and his manager. My dad gave them a ride to their hotel. For a few years after that they remained in touch and whenever Earl Hines was playing in Syracuse, he’d meet my dad for dinner and my mom and dad might go to the show if they could get a babysitter. That is one of my puzzle pieces. I wonder if it’s one of his.

Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no no
And, feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
You know, feelin’ good was good enough for me
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee ~Janis Joplin

Me and Bobby McGee. He used to walk around the house playing his guitar and singing it. That is one of my puzzle pieces. I wonder if it’s one of his.

They say you grow up to be your parents. If someday I become a Jigsaw Man, I wonder what my puzzle pieces will be. 

Have a great Sunday! ~Phil

11 Comments

Posted in nostalgia

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Throwback Thursday! Cemetery of The Heart

Posted on November 29, 2018 | 17 comments

picturesofengland.com

(Nov. 1, 2014) We all have a Cemetery of the Heart that we visit from time to time. It is a place that is unique and belongs to each of us alone. Sometimes we visit when it’s sunny and the birds are singing and at these times we are unaffected by the memories each marker represents, thankful that we are in a better place.

Other times we visit our Cemetery of the Heart when the weather is cloudy, cold, and stormy, perhaps mourning the loss of those happy memories that warmed our hearts in days gone by.We may walk down an aisle, a small, grassy path flanked on either side by those tiny markers that barely acknowledge a person’s passing, viewing the tombstones with varying levels of interest and angst. Some of the smaller stones, barely a marker really, may represent missed opportunities, brief connections with people which never came to fruition or doors we did not open when opportunity knocked. Most are relationships that perished in their infancy. We recognize the names on some of these stones and others we do not. Some are lovers, some are friends and some are strangers we may have met in passing.

In the next row over are tombstones of those loves which may have been ill-fated, but which still resonate poignantly in our memories. The path through this row of grave markers is slightly uphill, but we can still easily make the trek. The stones are tall and strong with the names and dates etched in them as they are forever etched in our hearts. Each one a small nick, or scratch, or crack in the surface of our hearts, which may have changed it ever so slightly, but which also gives our heart some of the strength and character which has brought us this far.

As we turn the corner of the gravel path there are only a few graves left to view. Up the long, steep hill at the far back of our Cemetery of the Heart are the monuments and mausoleums. It is inevitable. Once we enter our Cemetery of the Heart we are compelled to walk the entire path, even when it becomes steep and difficult. There is no way to go back and erase what we’ve carved on each tombstone. The monuments and mausoleums may be far fewer in number, but their size and importance dominates our view of the cemetery.

In some places we have erected enormous monuments to lost loves. Some of them stand so tall and broad that they block the sun, dooming the small flowers we have tried to plant since the monument was built. Some of us are so tired from pushing the heavy stones into place that we haven’t even tried to plant new flowers yet. We hope that in time some hardy plants will grow here naturally in the shade of these memories and with enough time perhaps they will grow tall enough to reach the sunlight with branches where birds will nest and sing again.

Next to our monuments we notice a mausoleum. Some of the crypts are labeled and we fondly pay homage to those who still hold a special place in our hearts, those we still wish to check in on from time to time to see that they are well. Finally, if we choose to look closely enough, we can see that the daylight from outside our mausoleum has crept through the doorway to reveal a few empty drawers at the back. At this realization we smile and leave the cemetery in peace, knowing that the storm will eventually pass.

This is an idea for a future novel. I hope you don’t mind the detour from my usual style of writing. I promise to return to my usual level of idiocy soon. As always, if you enjoy anything I write on #ThePhilFactor I’d love it if you shared by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog button below. See you Saturday! ~Phil

17 Comments

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Throwback Thursday! Golfing with Ghosts

Posted on July 19, 2018 | 1 comment

(Aug 1, 2015) “It is a talent of the soul to discover the joy in pain—-thinking of moments you long for, and knowing you’ll never have them again. The beautiful ghosts of our past haunt us, and yet we still can’t decide if the pain they caused us outweighs the tender moments when they touched our soul.” ~Shannon L. Alder

golfstinks.com

golfstinks.com

I’m golfing with ghosts, or for ghosts or both this weekend. What I am doing is returning to my hometown to spend the weekend with two of my childhood friends. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers and will still know each other when we’re in diapers again. I think that’s a pretty amazing thing. If you’ve read either of my novels, two of the Golden Boys characters in them are based on these guys. In addition to my two life long friends, I will also be seeing many friends from high school at our hometown bar and at a memorial golf tournament the following day. It will be a weekend filled with the ghosts of my past.

It is a bittersweet occasion however. We are golfing in a tournament to raise money for a scholarship fund in the name of one of our high school classmates, Sara,  who passed away far too young a two years ago.  I hope that wherever she is, she can see the goings on this weekend. I hope that she is a ghost walking among us at the bar and the golf course and, like George Bailey, seeing and hearing the lasting impact she made on those around her. I also hope she can help with my golf swing like Patrick Swayze helped Demi Moore with her pottery, because I really have not been practicing. The phrase “danger to self and others” comes to mind.

Why is ghost Patrick Swayze not wearing a shirt?

Why is ghost Patrick Swayze not wearing a shirt?

If George Bailey had Clarence as his own personal angel, Sara has had Michelle, Debbie, Theresa, Cindy, Sandy, and Sally as her escorting angels for the last three years as they have kept her memory alive in the form of the scholarship that bears her name.

10893885_10204225465574395_1970329467_n

I’m not sure why, but I’m sentimental. I love to visit my past and remember. That’s what I mean when I say I’m visiting ghosts this weekend. Not only the very literal ghost of a classmate, but the ghosts of my past.  It’s almost as if I can see and hear the echoes of our younger selves. When I look at someone I knew years ago I see their younger self imposed upon the middle-aged adult I’m looking at. I instantly recall conversations and hijinks from years ago.  (Yes, I’m so old that I used the word hijinks) It’s like my memory has bookmarks and I’m just turning back to a dog-eared page.

A lot of people, therapists included, will say that you shouldn’t live in the past. I agree, we shouldn’t live there, but I don’t think it’s a bad place to visit occasionally. Sometimes the past was pretty damned good and it can remind us of parts of us, good parts, that we may have forgotten amidst the mortgages, stress, and careers that have slowly, inexorably filled our present. I’m hoping however that this weekend I’ll be haunted by ghosts and, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to dog-ear a few more pages that I can re-visit in the future.

Have a great weekend! I know I will. ~Phil

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Posted in Humor, Relationships, Uncategorized

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Throwback Thursday! Is It Too Soon for 90’s Nostalgia?

Posted on August 31, 2017 | 2 comments

Apparently 90’s nostalgia is a thing for kids born in the 90’s. The 1990’s that is, although I can imagine that the folks born in the 1890’s are feeling pretty nostalgic right now, mostly about having a pulse.

My 18 year old son and his friends are all nostalgic about the TV shows they watched as kids 15 years ago. It seems like some sort of weird disease or Benjamin Buttons affliction. When you’re 18 you shouldn’t look back at anything and think, “Those were the good ol’ days.” These idiots don’t even remember the world without the internet and they’re feeling nostalgic about Tommy Pickles and CatDog?

Back in the 90’s,  when there was no internet, I used to go around to bars in person and stand on a stage and say stupid stuff like this out loud. And I had to walk there in the snow and it was uphill both ways! There. That’s real nostalgia. For my son, remembering life before Netflix is nostalgia. Yup, I’ve already said to him, “I remember when Netflix was just getting DVD’s in the mail every week.” Those were hard times back then. Things are better now.

All-That-e1347915316959

When I was 20 I wasn’t looking back thinking how great things were in my childhood. I was out living life and worrying about things later. Being nostalgic was something old people did. I’ve heard actual adults have nostalgia for the good old days when we’d watch Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Joey, Phoebe and Monica every Thursday night. Remember? Back in the day when we had to watch TV shows when they were actually broadcast by the networks, unless of course you set your VCR. Yup, those were the good ol’ days!

friends_400x400

Nostalgia is fun though, isn’t it? I don’t think things were better in the past, but it’s still fun to look back. When I’m nostalgic for my younger days I remember all the great movies and music from the 80’s. When you’re feeling nostalgic, what do you look back on that makes you smile?

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

2 Comments

Posted in Humor

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Throwback Thursday! The Rolling Stones Are Liars: My Class Reunion

Posted on July 6, 2017 | 5 comments

(07/27/13)  Of course this doesn’t apply to me and all my classmates who are attending our reunion this weekend.  The high school reunion. That American institution where we renew friendships, reminisce, and catch up. We remember who we were and we talk about who we’ve become. Last night I had a very nice time talking with many, many old friends.

Back to my title. The Rolling Stones are big fat liars. Mick, Keith, Ron and Charlie. Every one a liar. Pants on fire. The whole nine yards. What did they lie about? They lied about time. Time is SO not on our side. Judging from how haggard The Rolling Stones look, time isn’t on their side either. Especially Keith.

I know where you think I’m going with this, but you’re wrong. Yeah, sorry about that. I’m not going to bemoan how the years have changed my classmates and I. If anything, I was pleasantly surprised by how good everyone looked. My old friends are happy and healthy and doing well. At least the ones that attended our reunion.

reunion

In addition to attending reunion activities I also went back to the neighborhood of my childhood. I’ve only been there a few times in the last twenty years. Everywhere I looked there were ghosts. If I looked at a street corner I could see the younger versions of my friends and I goofing around and I could hear the echoes of thirty year old conversations about inane topics. Walking by house after house, memories of incidents and adventures came to life in my minds eye as if not a day had passed.

The most startling revelation however is that apparently since I grew up I’ve become a giant. The parents of my childhood friends are smaller and shorter than I remember them. As my friend and I walked the streets it was amazing how much the houses had shrunk and now look old and run down a bit.  The walk around the block which seemed so long  as kids is now barely long enough to be considered much of a walk at all.

Street Sign

I know that all these things are illusions. People age and the neighborhood that was a whole world to us as kids suddenly appears small and old when I return to it from the larger world I’ve explored since I left home. Damn it Mick Jagger, you promised that time was on my side. I blinked and suddenly that naive, wide eyed boy from a small town turned into an adult with a mortgage and acid reflux. I guess more appropriately, this weekend illustrated to me the truth in the title of that Thomas Wolfe novel; You Can’t Go Home Again. I tried and although my home and neighborhood are not what they once were, I’ve enjoyed meeting high school friends again who all seem to be better versions of the kids I knew. Here’s to old friends.

3Reunion

As always, if you like what you read at #ThePhilFactor please hit the Facebook share button, especially my high school friends that might be reading this. It was great to see you all again. And thank you to Cindy for all the pictures you’ve posted to Facebook. I’m sorry I couldn’t include pictures of everyone that was there. Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

5 Comments

Posted in Humor, Throwback Thursdays

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My Advice To My Past Self

Posted on May 26, 2017 | 44 comments

Earlier this week I saw a post from SickChristine that was inspired by a Soul Pancake  Facebook post.

Christine wrote a beautiful and touching story of the advice she would give her past self at different ages. Beautiful and touching? Yeah, that’s not exactly my style. Younger me was a moron and he definitely needed my advice. So, here’s what I would tell myself if I could travel back in time to help younger me:

Dear 1970’s Phil: Dude, relax. You’re a kid. Don’t stress about anything. Especially not the air raid drills they make you do in grade school. The Russians are definitely not going to bomb you.  At least not until Trump is President. Just be careful around water fountains. Not the big kind that you see in a park, but the little ones you drink out of in the hallway at school. There’s one that will change your life forever. That one fountain is the Joker to your Batman.  Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future.

Dear 1980’s Phil: To borrow from Baz Luhrman, wear sunscreen. You get sunburned from the refrigerator light! Wear sunscreen. I want to have skin like a baby’s bottom when I/Me/You are older. Also go ahead and grow the mullet, but cut it off in 1988. You kept it a year too long. Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future.

Dear 1990’s Phil: Apple. Not the fruit. Well, yes, the fruit. Eat them, they’re better than all that fast food you eat.  But remember Apple the company. Save all your money and invest in a company named Apple in 1999. If you do this you can retire from work in 2015. Don’t mind the hyperlinked blue text there. You can’t read that yet. Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future. And yes, you get the most important decision of your life right.

Dear 2000’s Phil: You’ll be raising your kids now. I’ve got no advice for you. Nothing can prepare you for parenting. Just relax and enjoy. You can’t control everything. In fact I should have told you that about two decades ago. Also embrace fantasy football. Not only will you be really good at it, but if you play your cards right, you can make a living at it. Enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. Yes, they’ll still be with you. Maybe write a few books about them.  And don’t stress about the number of views your blog gets. The right people will get the jokes. No, seriously, I was not kidding about the fantasy football.

All in all, don’t worry about much I said here. Life’s never going to be perfect. Live your life and enjoy it without too much worry. And lastly, wear sunscreen.

Have a great Saturday everybody! ~Phil

44 Comments

Posted in Humor

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Is It Too Soon For 90’s Nostalgia?

Posted on August 27, 2016 | 15 comments

hqdefault (1)

Apparently 90’s nostalgia is a thing for kids born in the 90’s. The 1990’s that is, although I can imagine that the folks born in the 1890’s are feeling pretty nostalgic right now, mostly about having a pulse.

My 18 year old son and his friends are all nostalgic about the TV shows they watched as kids 10-15 years ago. It seems like some sort of weird disease or Benjamin Buttons affliction. When you’re 18 you shouldn’t look back at anything and think, “Those were the good ol’ days.” These idiots don’t even remember the world without the internet and they’re feeling nostalgic about Tommy Pickles and CatDog. Back in the 90’s,  when there was no internet, I used to go around to bars in person and stand on a stage and say stupid stuff like this out loud. And I had to walk there in the snow and it was uphill both ways! There. That’s real nostalgia. For my son, remembering life before Netflix is nostalgia. Yup, I’ve already said to him, “I remember when Netflix was just getting DVD’s in the mail every week.” Those were hard times back then. Things are better now.

All-That-e1347915316959

When I was 20 I wasn’t looking back thinking how great things were in my childhood. I was out living life and worrying about things later. Being nostalgic was something old people did. I’ve heard actual adults have nostalgia for the good old days when we’d watch Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Joey, Phoebe and Monica every Thursday night. Remember? Back in the day when we had to watch TV shows when they were actually broadcast by the networks, unless of course you set your VCR. Yup, those were the good ol’ days!

friends_400x400

Nostalgia is fun though, isn’t it? I don’t think things were better in the past, but it’s still fun to look back. When I’m nostalgic for my younger days I remember all the great movies and music from the 80’s. When you’re feeling nostalgic, what do you look back on that makes you smile?

Have a great weekend! ~Phil

15 Comments

Posted in pop culture

Tagged , ,

Cemetery of the Heart

Posted on November 1, 2014 | 33 comments
picturesofengland.com picturesofengland.com

We all have a Cemetery of the Heart that we visit from time to time. It is a place that is unique and belongs to each of us alone. Sometimes we visit when it’s sunny and the birds are singing and at these times we are unaffected by the memories each marker represents, thankful that we are in a better place.

Other times we visit our Cemetery of the Heart when the weather is cloudy, cold, and stormy, perhaps mourning the loss of those happy memories that warmed our hearts in days gone by.We may walk down an aisle, a small, grassy path flanked on either side by those tiny markers that barely acknowledge a person’s passing, viewing the tombstones with varying levels of interest and angst. Some of the smaller stones, barely a marker really, may represent missed opportunities, brief connections with people which never came to fruition or doors we did not open when opportunity knocked. Most are relationships that perished in their infancy. We recognize the names on some of these stones and others we do not. Some are lovers, some are friends and some are strangers we may have met in passing.

In the next row over are tombstones of those loves which may have been ill-fated, but which still resonate poignantly in our memories. The path through this row of grave markers is slightly uphill, but we can still easily make the trek. The stones are tall and strong with the names and dates etched in them as they are forever etched in our hearts. Each one a small nick, or scratch, or crack in the surface of our hearts, which may have changed it ever so slightly, but which also gives our heart some of the strength and character which has brought us this far.

As we turn the corner of the gravel path there are only a few graves left to view. Up the long, steep hill at the far back of our Cemetery of the Heart are the monuments and mausoleums. It is inevitable. Once we enter our Cemetery of the Heart we are compelled to walk the entire path, even when it becomes steep and difficult. There is no way to go back and erase what we’ve carved on each tombstone. The monuments and mausoleums may be far fewer in number, but their size and importance dominates our view of the cemetery.

In some places we have erected enormous monuments to lost loves. Some of them stand so tall and broad that they block the sun, dooming the small flowers we have tried to plant since the monument was built. Some of us are so tired from pushing the heavy stones into place that we haven’t even tried to plant new flowers yet. We hope that in time some hardy plants will grow here naturally in the shade of these memories and with enough time perhaps they will grow tall enough to reach the sunlight with branches where birds will nest and sing again.

Next to our monuments we notice a mausoleum. Some of the crypts are labeled and we fondly pay homage to those who still hold a special place in our hearts, those we still wish to check in on from time to time to see that they are well. Finally, if we choose to look closely enough, we can see that the daylight from outside our mausoleum has crept through the doorway to reveal a few empty drawers at the back. At this realization we smile and leave the cemetery in peace, knowing that the storm will eventually pass.

This is an idea for a future novel. Hoped you don’t mind the detour from my usual style of writing. I promise to return to my usual level of idiocy next week. As always, if you enjoy anything I write on #ThePhilFactor I’d love it if you shared by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog button below. Have a great weekend! ~Phil

33 Comments

Posted in author, nostalgia, Phil Taylor, Relationships, W.I.P.

Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

Throwback Thursdays! The Rolling Stones are Liars: My Class Reunion

Posted on July 31, 2014 | 3 comments

Originally published 7/27/2013

Reunion

Of course this doesn’t apply to me and all my classmates who are attending our reunion this weekend.  The high school reunion. That American institution where we renew friendships, reminisce, and catch up. We remember who we were and we talk about who we’ve become. Last night I had a very nice time talking with many, many old friends.

Back to my title. The Rolling Stones are big fat liars. Mick, Keith, Ron and Charlie. Every one a liar. Pants on fire. The whole nine yards. What did they lie about? They lied about time. Time is SO not on our side. Judging from how haggard The Rolling Stones look, time isn’t on their side either. Especially Keith.

I know where you think I’m going with this, but you’re wrong. Yeah, sorry about that. I’m not going to bemoan how the years have changed my classmates and I. If anything, I was pleasantly surprised by how good everyone looked. My old friends are happy and healthy and doing well. At least the ones that attended our reunion.

reunion

In addition to attending reunion activities I also went back to the neighborhood of my childhood. I’ve only been there a few times in the last twenty years. Everywhere I looked there were ghosts. If I looked at a street corner I could see the younger versions of my friends and I goofing around and I could hear the echoes of thirty year old conversations about inane topics. Walking by house after house, memories of incidents and adventures came to life in my minds eye as if not a day had passed.

The most startling revelation however is that apparently since I grew up I’ve become a giant. The parents of my childhood friends are smaller and shorter than I remember them. As my friend and I walked the streets it was amazing how much the houses had shrunk and now look old and run down a bit.  The walk around the block which seemed so long  as kids is now barely long enough to be considered much of a walk at all.

Street Sign

I know that all these things are illusions. People age and the neighborhood that was a whole world to us as kids suddenly appears small and old when I return to it from the larger world I’ve explored since I left home. Damn it Mick Jagger, you promised that time was on my side. I blinked and suddenly that naive, wide eyed boy from a small town turned into an adult with a mortgage and acid reflux. I guess more appropriately, this weekend illustrated to me the truth in the title of that Thomas Wolfe novel; You Can’t Go Home Again. I tried and although my home and neighborhood are not what they once were, I’ve enjoyed meeting high school friends again who all seem to be better versions of the kids I knew. Here’s to old friends.

3Reunion

As always, if you like what you read at #ThePhilFactor please hit the Facebook share button, especially my high school friends that might be reading this. It was great to see you all again. And thank you to Cindy for all the pictures you’ve posted to Facebook. I’m sorry I couldn’t include pictures of everyone that was there.

Have a great Thursday everyone! ~Phil

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