Blogging in the Ozarks
Back to the old homestead for a few days. It’s odd to see all the old haunts through new southerner eyes. The old high school seems foreign. Old girlfriend’s houses seem small. Old friends have kids. I feel like an uncle. My buddy Brad’s little brother isn’t so little anymore. He’s taller than me, has tight facial hair, and gets asked if he’s been drinking when he gets pulled over.
It’s not bad though. It’s neat how quickly you can fall back into the old groove with good friends. They may have kids now, but they can still laugh like they did when we weren’t much older than their littluns.
Gary’s little brother (once the subject of petty taunts) is now a successful dot-commer, making scads of dough, and about to test to the level of 2nd degree blackbelt.
There is a lesson in all this, but my mind is weighted down by my mother’s good food.
More when I return south to my home and little dog.