Hey guys, I appreciate the overwhelming support. Just wanted to get an idea of whether the post-retirement posts are worth continuing and the answer was made very clear.
I’ll be honest…a few of the responses were incredibly touching. I had some people talking about how they read the posts aloud to their wives at night, others forward stuff to their kids, and on and on. One friendly dude even offered to pay me to continue. Again, such nice emails. I was just asking whether it matters to you. Thank you so much for answering.
Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m not curing cancer here. I’ll happily continue once a month as long as there’s room in my life to do that. Let’s move on. Just a few administrative notes before the July post…
- If you follow MileNerd by email, that service stops working this month. I put up a new link (from a new email service) on the right sidebar of MileNerd.com. You should be able to subscribe to it starting today. I’m not a techie at all…if there are issues with this new provider, I’ll try to have that fixed next month. But, again, no more MileNerd emails unless you resubscribe through the new link.
- A couple of you requested a miles and points post. I might stick one in at some point. But I’m very retired from blogging about that hobby. These posts are just to stay connected to you old friends each month.
- On that note, I’m probably done updating the credit card list at this point. The edits have been very sporadic for 2 years. Not sure there’s any point in it. Again…no longer a miles and points blogger.
- A few of you mentioned how I didn’t reply 2 years ago about membership in a group. I apologize. Was slammed with emails and eventually stopped answering them. Anyway, the original idea changed. If you are still interested in a very small work-focused team (essentially a part-time job hunting for deals) let me know and we can talk.
- Finally, the initial plan with my monthly post-retirement entries was to mix it up. Meaning, sometimes just posting a meaningful picture and caption from a trip…and the next month maybe just writing a review of my favorite pizza slice. Over the last 2 years, these all turned into longer posts. Hey, I dig them too. But, going forward, it’s possible I might mix things up more. The idea is to post something each month. What it will be may vary.
That said, I was motivated this month. Your avalanche of emails touched me. So I’m going to share a story I once briefly mentioned. You get a better, fuller version today. It’s a winding tale from my past. Hope you enjoy…
—————————–
School Daze
Can you still remember your first day of high school?
That feeling in the pit of your belly?
The bell rang. I entered the 10th grade ring (I mean, room) very cautiously. That’s the way to do it when you’re part boy, part string bean. Sure, my dream of being a ladies man was unrealistic. But there was plenty else I could do. Like claim my rightful throne as the king of awkwardness. Looking around at all the grown-up faces, it seemed to be the right time to start dating. Unfortunately, big obstacles were in my path. Including:
- A flip side to my fancy new contact lenses – no more thick glasses to hide the schnoz.
- This unimpressive physique. Best described as “friendly neighborhood crackhead.”
- My weirdness factor. Basically, complete and total ignorance on how to be cool. There were Luke Perry sexy whisper guys everywhere…and then there was me. Armed with a loud voice and this peach fuzz moustache, I appeared destined to be cast as “spazzy guy in the back row.”
So that’s where I sat. And, as the cranky teacher started to take roll, I waited nervously. All I had to do was say “here” but there was a 99% chance my voice would crack while doing it. What was my deal? I looked down at the Guess jeans my mom purchased for the first day of class and immediately shook my head. Already got clowned today for forgetting to cut off the price tag before walking into the building. Dammit.
Cranky teacher neared the end of the list. It was almost voice-cracking time. And then…out of nowhere…
What in the world was this?
Someone named Kelley responded to her name being called. I’d seen all the other pretty girls in town but this was…different. She tossed her hair aside and giggled at nothing in particular. Honestly, it felt like fairy dust was raining down on the room. Did this girl jump straight out of a high school movie montage? What THE HELL was happening here?
My jaw was still on the floor as a pimple-faced kid tapped my shoulder.
Apparently, cranky teacher was calling my name…
Ok, NOT the time for nervousness. Man up, dummy. Gotta make a good first impression on Kelley. As soon as cranky teacher called my name again, I interrupted with…
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Guess it’s because most people call me Studman.”
Let me tell you…
As 10th grade goes, that’s pretty much the highest level of comedy one can reach. The room exploded with laughter and I even got a few high-fives. For the next 3 years, there were kids who would permanently refer to me as Studman. I even signed it that way on my Blockbuster Video card.
When the bell rang, I found myself standing next to the giggling, hair-tossing goddess herself. The first day of school in a new town and she didn’t have a single ounce of nervousness. How could this be? I felt a panic attack starting up simply because she was looking at me. Then she smiled (so warmly it could have melted ice) and said…
“You’re funny.”
High school was off to an amazing start.
Juniors
By 11th grade, Kelley and I were close buddies.
She (of course) was dating the captain of the football team.
I, on the other hand, enjoyed jam-packed weekends full of video games and Pop Tarts.
As the lord of awkwardness, I’d found my rightful place in the pecking order – as a funny yet sensitive pod person. I drove her to school each morning. We talked about everything (well, almost). I could never express what was in my heart. But, obviously, I was crazy about this person who sat mere inches away. I imagine she just thought of those 15-minute drives as transportation…but they were always the highlight of my day.
Seniors
By 12th grade, I was essentially her gay best friend.
Thrilling? Of course.
Daily torture? That too.
It was normal to pick up the phone and hear Kelley mid-laugh anticipating what I might say. She was fun, quirky, and extremely kind. The girl didn’t have a mean bone in her body. More than anyone at school, she really cared about what was happening with me. It mattered to her. And, of course, I listened intently during our nightly calls as she shared everything from her life.
Being the shoulder-to-cry-on guy felt like an honor in one sense…but I could be so much more. With me, there wouldn’t be any reason to cry at all. How on earth did anyone express such things? I might as well attempt something easier…like climbing Mount Everest.
I remember one of the last days we drove to school together. She wore a new white dress. It was the first moment a girl actually took my breath away. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. She never wore clothes like that but we had a bunch of pre-graduation ceremonies to attend. My voice got weirdly loud and I blurted out, “Hey maybe we could share a dance together at prom before the end of the night…y’know if we have time or whatever.” As always, she was fully and enthusiastically up for anything I ever suggested.
(I just couldn’t express what I really wanted to)
Early College
After graduation, Kelley headed north to Indiana. A few states away. The opposite sex was (finally) more of a presence in my life, but she remained at the forefront of my thoughts. I received her postcards and letters regularly. Obviously, dropping everything for the scattered weekends she drove down to visit.
Maybe it was my growing confidence…or possibly the hypnotic mix of music and beer…but our time together seemed to have a different magic now. No longer just a spazzy pod person daydreaming about the impossible. These moments seemed special for both of us. Was that in my imagination? Had I ventured into arrogance? Because I could have sworn she was waiting for me to say or do something. But, come on. Please. Who am I supposed to be…Jean-Claude Van Damme?
We just soaked up all we could from those special weekends and returned to our normal college lives.
Late College
When Michael Jordan un-retired from baseball, I mapped out a road trip to Chicago with some friends. Had to see that guy play in person. Driving to the Windy City came with a special bonus. Passing through Indiana. I asked Kelley if she was interested in joining our adventure. She screamed in delight before I could finish the sentence.
We arrived in Chicago so poor that we couldn’t actually afford tickets. At least not the normal way. I walked up to a scary-looking scalper on the street and handed him a few bucks. Please, sir. Anything that gets us inside. With his tattooed hand, he shoved an envelope into my chest and waved me away.
Thank you, serial killer guy! YES!
We had our seats. Well, kind of. They were technically passes to line up in the “standing room” zone behind the last row. But nobody in the United Center had more fun that night. We sat there (actually, stood there) watching the greatest player in history do his thing. Wow. What kind of brass balls are on this dude to lay it all out there each and every night?
It then occurred to me that I might be the exact opposite of MJ. Someone who never puts himself out there. As we left the arena…eating, drinking, and laughing our way through Chicago…I grew frustrated with myself. What the hell was my problem? Why couldn’t I just open up my heart? Anyway, it was getting late. We couldn’t afford luxury so we all crashed in the same small hotel room. Kelley and I had to share one of the beds. We talked deep into the night. At one point, she looked softly into my eyes and then…I immediately rolled over.
As I drifted away, an important question lingered in my mind…
Am I the Michael Jordan of cowardice?
Post-College
We still spoke almost every day, but Kelley had been dating someone. It was serious. Just never expected to get a call that she’d be marrying him.
(Well done, king of awkwardness. You officially blew it)
Turns out the marriage was a bust from the start. A product of youth more than anything. Now a tough situation. As the months went by, Kelley seemed increasingly fragile. In spite of it, she was full of warmth on our phone calls. I really started to understand how important our friendship was. And not just to me. One particular day, it came pouring out of her. She said:
“I know you have lots of friends but honestly you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. You’ve been there for me through everything. You know every single thing about me, good and bad. And what amazes me the most is you don’t judge me. You know all the bad things I’ve done and still, amazingly, associate with me. Honestly, how do you put up with me?”
As a modern-day Shakespeare, I replied with:
“Well I do a lot of drugs, so…”
The reality is, I had no clue what the hell she was talking about. She never did anything “bad.” That girl was so kind to everyone. For the first time, her sunny personality was dimming. She was clearly in pain. After another few months, she explained that her marriage was ending. The toll was significant. I tried to be a good friend. With both of us living alone now, there were long daily phone calls. We talked about a million different subjects. Including regret. Both wondering what life might have been like if she hadn’t headed north for school. Clearly, I wanted to say something more. But Halley’s Comet would come around faster than my words. So, one day, she finally asked it herself:
“What do you think it would be like if we kissed? I’m just wondering…”
I can’t remember how I answered that question. It’s possible my head fell off my body and rolled into a freezer to hide. But I don’t know for sure…the rest of that conversation was a blur.
Over the next few months, Kelley grew increasingly sad. It was so far from her natural state. I tried to make her laugh. I tried to build her up. But she was just as concerned with my happiness as I was with hers. We were both a bit lost in the world. Those phone calls felt like a warm cup of soup in the middle of a storm. Her marriage was over now. Nothing left but paperwork. She desperately needed a weekend away. Something non-depressing to help her remember how to feel like herself. We discussed it for weeks and finally made plans to meet halfway.
It’s easy to forget how young we were. But I truly felt 10 years old driving into that random Kentucky town. We met at a local mini golf course. She’d lost weight. And (shockingly) seemed just as awkward as me. I didn’t even know that was possible. Never seen it from her in all these years. Oh, man. Maybe we should just grab a beer and talk? I asked mini golf guy for directions to the nearest local pub…but apparently this was a “dry county.” Wait. Let me get this straight…I live an entire life without knowing dry counties even exist…and NOW I’m in one??
Get it together, man. Just focus on Kelley. Your best friend needs you to be normal right now. But, really, all I had to do was look at her. I saw pain in her eyes where there used to be joy. So I did what was most familiar. I tried to make her laugh. Eventually, a few smiles came out…then some giggles…and the day actually turned fun again. We fell into our old rhythm. Talked for hours. By the time we headed back to the hotel, I’d almost forgotten about…oh, shit. Panic attack time. I stared out the window as she went into the bathroom to freshen up.
(Warning: What I’m about to say is likely the most pathetic thing your ears will ever hear)
It was a nuclear bomb of fear. My brain said, “We can’t do this!” But, actually, I don’t even know if THIS was going to happen. My thoughts went into hyperdrive – “Even though the marriage is over, there’s still paperwork to sign” and blah blah blah. The reality is that I freaked the fuck out. I’d been crazy about her since the 10th grade. And, within seconds, I convinced myself that I shouldn’t be there. So, while she was in the bathroom…
I grabbed my bag, went downstairs, got in my car, and left the state.
(Yes, you read that correctly)
We had car phones in those days. Mine rang as I got on the highway. Kelley asked where I was…because, well…it probably didn’t occur to her that I drove out of Kentucky while she was in the bathroom. Look, I could justify it in any number of strange ways. But the reality is that…once again…I took the easy way out. Not sure what I rambled about on that phone call. But I do know one thing – at no point did I just say, “I’m scared.”
Clearly, she was hurt. And this time it was because of me. I can’t imagine many people would forgive that kind of thing, but…man…she was gentle and understanding even in that moment. She actually thanked me for coming to see her.
As I drove down the winding highway, something finally made sense to me. I’m the most pathetic person alive. And the utter exhaustion of that realization (on top of the entire day) hit me like a ton of bricks. Because…an hour into my drive, I fell asleep at the wheel.
(Whether you believe this next part or not, I give you my word it’s the truth)
Right as I fell asleep…literally right then…I ran out of gas. And, yes, I know how that sounds. But it happened. For whatever reason, it jerked the car. Instead of driving off the side of that mountain highway…I snapped awake just as I drifted out of my lane.
Somehow, I was able to coast down the hill to the nearest exit…right into a gas station.
I have no explanation. No guide to help me make sense of it. But that’s what happened. My car should have driven off the side of that empty highway with me asleep at the wheel. There’s no logical reason it didn’t.
And also beyond all logic…Kelley still cared about me after that day.
Final Chapter
The years kept marching on as we entered our late 20s. A day rarely passed without hearing her voice. We laughed about everything – yes, including my Kentucky mad dash. We were as close as ever. Sharing the ups and downs from work, dating, and life. We were getting older now. Out of the blue one day, she said:
“I just want you to know how thankful I am to have you in my life. I’m so grateful for everything…and I don’t think I’ve told you that enough. You are always there to listen. I was thinking today about how many times I’ve called you crying over God knows what. I’m so sensitive I’ll cry over a hangnail. But no matter how trite my dilemma was, you always listened so intently and always made me feel better.
And it amazes me…even when I think I’m as happy as I can get…when I speak to you on the phone, I realize I’m twice as happy as I was before. As many changes as I’ve gone through in the past 5 years, you were my only constant. And I’m so happy to know you. Anyway, I just wanted to say that…”
Astonishingly, I started to express myself too. In a somewhat clunky/oafish way, of course. But I did say the words. And we met up again. A decade after claiming to be the Studman…I finally kissed her.
There was a hell of a buildup to that moment. And it was so meaningful for both of us. But if you think this is a story about two people ending up together, then you aren’t seeing the full picture yet. Let me explain…
We both wanted to express our affection for each other by then. Such a long time coming. But we weren’t kids anymore. The reality is…not every deep friendship is meant to turn romantic. We realized it quickly. And the bond stayed strong.
Another decade (and then some) has passed. I look back on all the people who helped me grow. And nobody from those years mattered more than Kelley. We long ago moved on to relationships with incredible people. But I think we helped each other get there. Her presence in those days helped me immensely in all the ones that have followed.
I haven’t heard her voice in years now. One of the last times was a day I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should check in. So I did. She’d married a sweetheart of a guy. And they just found out they were pregnant. Hadn’t even told their families yet. Such a major moment in her life and…for some reason…I knew to reach out. Both of us were thrilled to share one more special phone call together.
We all remain forever connected to our pasts. Sometimes, when we think back on the people who really mattered…we cut out all the bad parts. Or we try to make it something it wasn’t. The reality is that I had a great friend in my formative years. Sure, our friendship was messy and I was often hilariously immature. But I had someone in my corner. A person who thought I was awesome…even at a time when nobody other than my mom agreed.
I spent many hours of my youth wondering what else we could be. But that was never the point. The specialness was what we actually were. Looking back, I can see it so clearly. I had a real best friend. Someone who taught me how to open my heart to others…as well as to myself. I’m forever grateful. We don’t always understand the role someone will play in our lives. But, then again, maybe we’re not supposed to at the time.
