Filed under: Uncategorized
The Butterfly Effect: A few years ago I had the opportunity to go back to the “old neighborhood” I grew up in and have me a look around. I am usually not the type who goes for nostalgia, but it had been so long, and I was a bit curious. The first pass was just a slow drive down 53rd st. to take in the big picture and compare it to the one in my memory. As I cruised down the street nearly everyone who was outside paused long enough to glance at me. I wasn’t driving anything that would draw the eye; it was just everyone knew that car didn’t “belong” in that neighborhood. The place was still so familiar, yet so changed. My eyes were drawn to the houses all my friends used to live in, and the memories flowed like Sonoma county wine. When I got to the house I grew up in I noticed that the next door neighbor was just coming out of the garage to wash his truck…I looked closer, by gosh, it was Mr. Baer, father of my old friend from next door, Jim.I parked by the curb and slowly got out, Mr. Baer already giving me a good looking over. Across the street I could see Mrs. Hale, looking my way, framed by the front door threshold. It was great to see these old familiar faces, and I felt a warm grin growing on my face as I approached my former neighbor. He had not recognized me yet, and was squinting a bit in the bright sunlight. He laid down his bucket & brush and in a familiar southern drawl he says “If yer sellin somethin ya can just get back in that car Mister!”
I politely removed my shades & ball cap, still smiling, and said, “Hi Mr. Baer, can Jimmy come out & play?” It took a few seconds before I could see the light of recognition in his face…the smile I’d expected, missing in action.
Leave a Comment so far
Leave a comment