Friday, July 6, 2018
Under the Strawberry Moon
As I pedaled through the streets on a Friday morning last week, I was thinking about the old days. Here's the trigger. I've been running in to one of my childhood friends quite a bit really. I think you call it a route salesman. He delivers bread to stores in the early morning hours. Great guy.
I was entering a big box store as he was leaving one morning last week. He remarked that he sees more of me now than when we were kids.
We were just about daily companions during junior high and high school. Riding bikes. Going bowling. Wiffle ball. Sandlot hardball. Just plain old walking around town and hanging out in the local playground.
I replied I'd kill for one more wiffle ball game.
It's safe to say, it will never happen. I work odd hours. Other than my salesman friend, I've lost touch with a couple of other members of the neighborhood group. Still another has passed away.
AT 12:00 AM