I’m how old?

We were all young at some point…at least I think I was. What most of you probably don’t know is that I was a sweet innocent boy early in life. Contrary to most of you thinking I was born evil…I have documented proof that I was a good kid at some point. I’m fairly certain catholic school taught me how to be evil.

I attended catholic school for three years from seventh to ninth grade. Those years were fantastic and I would have loved to continue (and who knows…maybe I would have stayed catholic…or maybe not). My first year at St. Paul the Apostle in Richardson, TX was fantastic. Everyone was so friendly to this stranger who was coming to a new school and invading their class that had been together since practically first grade. One guy in particular was very similar to me. He grew up in a culturally embraced household similar to my Italian ruled family. We were also both smaller kids compared to some others and we loved the more eclectic music. We were listening to that crap long before it was culturally acceptable…so suck it society…(sorry I had a flashback).  He introduced me to some great music that I still listen to today.

At the end of my third year in catholic school, my mother got very sick and was diagnosed with malignant melanoma cancer. A fourth year in catholic school would have been too much for my family so I went back to public school. This was the first time in my life I missed my friends. No facebook, no email, no texting to make it easier for me. I had lost touch with most of them, but never forgot them and the great times we had together.

When the decision was made this past fall to move to Portland, I discovered that the friend I mentioned above had been living here for a few years. Small world! I had been looking forward to catching up with him. Last week I finally had that opportunity. As he strolled up towards burnside, I recognized him straight away. We gave each other a welcome hug and simply picked up where we left off over 25 years ago.

He was as cool now as ever. Portland cool. Not pretentious, hipster, vegan, or any other stereotype you want to place…just damn cool. He was telling me about the area and reaffirming quite a bit that I had already heard. So for us to be able to compare notes at this point of my relocation was comforting. We shared quite a few laughs over a beer while sitting outside in the gorgeous weather. We talked about the ride to adulthood that we both took and laughed while we looked back at our respective paths. What a ride it has been so far…


Me and Javier circa 1986. Riding a bus to San Antonio for a missions tour. Damn cool.



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