Wednesday's Child

This is entirely self-indulgent, replete with private jokes. Something a little more accessible is in the works.

I’m feeling maudlin. I miss the old days.

Sure some of it was shitty: microbiology, exams, boys.
On the whole though, the best of times. Leaving a taste in my mouth, of tuna fish sandwiches and goldfish crackers, Reese’s and Dr. Pepper.



Remembering that time…

We couldn’t ignore that our rats are sexual beings, and then chased you around the apartment yelling “ratty clitty” until I cornered you and we collapsed in breathless, heaving giggles.

Watching TV and doing homework on that old blue couch you love so much until the last rerun of the X-Files finished at one or 2 in the morning, our ass sore from the down sofa cushion now misshapen by our weights.

I was smiling just yesterday, about the time that I snuck up on you in the spooky carports. You were leaning over into the back seat and I stood quietly behind the open car door until you noticed me. As soon as you’d recovered you started to punch me as I laughed, knowing it was a mean thing to do but inexorably compelled by such a golden opportunity.

The huge blue-gray Tokay geckos with their lichen-orange spots at the East Bay Vivarium, and the poor, ugly, Budget’s frog that never seemed to get bought, and the tiny little tortoises you wanted so much. We ogled them until we couldn’t ignore the schoolwork waiting for us at home.

In our little universe there was Tako Sushi and the eternal joke afterwards, about the Berkeley Market always looking like it had just been looted.

And the characters, some recurring, some one-time walk-ons for amusing anecdotes, often assigned goofy made-up names like “Eastern European Elevator Boy.”

Funny how the rainy bad weather seems relentless this year, winter doesn’t seem to want to let go its hold.

But as far as I can remember, the sky was that brilliant, irreproducible, blue. The kind that’s a perfect backdrop for the gray-greens and browns of the hills and halcyon days.