Poontang: It's Not Just for Breakfast Anymore
I haven't seen my friend Jim in over three years. It is partly because of his crazy job as colonel of a security company - some weeks he works as many as 110 hours (did I stress the word "crazy"?!). Another contributing factor is that he lives almost two hours away in Rhode Island. But in large part it is due to a self-imposed distancing by Jim himself. He is 44 years old and has a long list of physical maladies, including: an inoperable brain aneurysm that is being treated with swelling-reducing drugs; diabetes; the onset of Parkinson's; complications from colon cancer; and an idiopathic tendency towards weight loss (Jim stands 6'2" tall and weighs a whopping 148 pounds, despite devouring, on average, a 4,000 calorie diet daily). Despite it all, he remains a major hunk, resembling almost to a tee this photo of Rob Thomas:
http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0007TKHHK.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg
Because of my history caring for both David and my Mom in their declining days, Jim has been adamant that I should not endure something like that for a third time by ministering to him, and thus, in spite of my protests to the contrary, he has deliberately placed a great deal more distance between us than is the geographical reality. So one can imagine my surprise when I received a phone message from him on Wednesday, stating he had Friday evening off and would I like to have dinner? I e-mailed my agreement, fully expecting that he would, as he has done repeatedly over the past three years, back out at the last minute.
But he arrived this evening on time, 6:00 sharp, chipper and chirpy and full of beans, and we had a great dinner at a local restaurant, laughing and chatting as if no time had ever elapsed since our last get together. An hour later we were unexpectedly rolling around on my living room floor, our clothes tossed into wild knots around us. Jim may be a bit bony and brittle, but he still has what it takes to satisfy.
I don't know where I'm going with this entry except to say it has been too long for me in between times - it has left me feeling like I am in a drought which has experienced a momentary sprinkling of rain. It is wonderful and frustrating and achingly lonely.
And, as I write this, I can still smell Jim's short-cropped, military-styled hair.
http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B0007TKHHK.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg
Because of my history caring for both David and my Mom in their declining days, Jim has been adamant that I should not endure something like that for a third time by ministering to him, and thus, in spite of my protests to the contrary, he has deliberately placed a great deal more distance between us than is the geographical reality. So one can imagine my surprise when I received a phone message from him on Wednesday, stating he had Friday evening off and would I like to have dinner? I e-mailed my agreement, fully expecting that he would, as he has done repeatedly over the past three years, back out at the last minute.
But he arrived this evening on time, 6:00 sharp, chipper and chirpy and full of beans, and we had a great dinner at a local restaurant, laughing and chatting as if no time had ever elapsed since our last get together. An hour later we were unexpectedly rolling around on my living room floor, our clothes tossed into wild knots around us. Jim may be a bit bony and brittle, but he still has what it takes to satisfy.
I don't know where I'm going with this entry except to say it has been too long for me in between times - it has left me feeling like I am in a drought which has experienced a momentary sprinkling of rain. It is wonderful and frustrating and achingly lonely.
And, as I write this, I can still smell Jim's short-cropped, military-styled hair.