A Day Late and a Dollar Short...
Life is a series of relationships being together and separating...
JoAnn Kelley Smith
Most of the stories I have to tell about love and relationships are tragic--or at least they were when they happened. Now, in light of maturity and a healthy dose of perspective, I find them quite funny. I hope you, loyal readers, do as well.
Way back in 1989, when I was 14, I was very active in the Boy Scouts of America. Since then, I've had some disagreements with how the people in charge of the national organization run things, but I still believe that with the right leader at the head of a troop it can be a wonderful experience. I know I learned a lot during my years involved with my troop.
In 1989 I had the chance to go to the National Jamboree, an event that takes place every four years. It was a pretty big deal, especially since it involved quite the trip from my little town in New York down to Fort A.P. Hill, Virginia. Part of that trip involved a full day at King's Dominion, a Six Flags park down in Richmond, Virginia.
During that day at the park, I got a taste of what my relationship live would be like for years to come. Oh, if only I had known it at the time!
My buddy T and I were virtually inseparable, especially when it came to scouting stuff. We'd known each other since about first grade and were often mistaken for brothers. Over the years, we had our difference of opinions, fights (some pretty knock-down, drag-out ones, too) and time apart--but I was the Best Man at his wedding and I would still trust him with my life. Needless to say, when we hit the Dominion, we hit it together.
Waiting on line for the White Water Canyon ride (it's one of those where four or six people get in a big round rubber boat and bounce along a simulated river), we couldn't help but notice the attractive girls in line in front of us. We were, after all, fourteen. We were very happy when fate smiled upon us and got those girls stuck in the boat with us for the duration of the ride.
We chatted a little as the boat bounced off rocks and we barely avoided being drenched by the overhead waterfalls. I talked more than T did, I always have and I'm pretty sure I always will. It was a nice ten minutes or so.
When the ride was over we and the girls went our separate ways.
T and I wandered around for a few minutes, basking in the luck we had just experienced. It was shaping up to be a pretty good day at that point. And we would have been perfectly happy if that's all that had happened.
Imagine our surprise when, after waiting on line for a roller coaster, we discovered the same girls queued up next to us as the coaster car rolled to a stop.
All four of us decided we may as well ride the thing together and, after a wee bit of rearranging, T and I each had a lovely lady next to us. (I, of course, ended up with the more outgoing one while T was with the quiet one.)
The next few hours are still a blur of shared rides and conversations. I was loving it. I would find out a bit later that T wasn't so thrilled, but I still think that's his own fault. ;)
T and I were (and still are) kind of big guys. We always looked older than we were and we were precocious enough to fool most people without even trying. So was the case on this day. It turned out these were older women we were hanging with. Not too much older--just a couple of years--but when you're a 14-year-old guy, a 16- or 17-year-old girl is akin to the Holy Grail! I was even careful to not mention some things, like being about to start my freshman year in high school. That's a lesson I wish I had remembered a few years later (but that's another story...).
There were pictures taken. Those great little park "squish box" pictures. The ones that come back mounted in the little viewer you have to hold up to the light to see. It would be a while before they were ready, and T and I had to rejoin the troop for dinner, so we made plans with the girls to meet back at the park's Eiffel Tower in about an hour to continue our evening at one of the parks free shows. Everyone left--reluctantly, but happy.
Nearly two hours later, T and I made our way to the Tower. We were late. It was his fault. I knew that our chances of finding these girls again was slim to none. And if we did manage to find them, I was sure they'd be pissed something fierce with us for being so late.
As I dashed about the legs of the tower, hoping beyond hope that the girls would be running late too and dragging T along with me, he grew increasingly annoyed.
"Face it," he said, refusing to indulge me any longer, "we're a day late and a dollar short."
And I realized that was as true as anything.
Not only had we missed our chance to meet back up with the girls, we had left the tickets to claim the pictures in their hands.
All I have from that day is the memory.
Absolutely none of the other guys in our troop believed a word of the story. And there was no way to prove it actually happened.
To this day, I still hope that, somewhere, there's a woman with a little key chain photo of the four of us together packed away in a box. And some days, when I'm feeling really wistful, I imagine her taking it out, gazing into the cheap plastic lens and thinking...
"I wonder what ever happened to that guy..."
JoAnn Kelley Smith
Most of the stories I have to tell about love and relationships are tragic--or at least they were when they happened. Now, in light of maturity and a healthy dose of perspective, I find them quite funny. I hope you, loyal readers, do as well.
Way back in 1989, when I was 14, I was very active in the Boy Scouts of America. Since then, I've had some disagreements with how the people in charge of the national organization run things, but I still believe that with the right leader at the head of a troop it can be a wonderful experience. I know I learned a lot during my years involved with my troop.
In 1989 I had the chance to go to the National Jamboree, an event that takes place every four years. It was a pretty big deal, especially since it involved quite the trip from my little town in New York down to Fort A.P. Hill, Virginia. Part of that trip involved a full day at King's Dominion, a Six Flags park down in Richmond, Virginia.
During that day at the park, I got a taste of what my relationship live would be like for years to come. Oh, if only I had known it at the time!
My buddy T and I were virtually inseparable, especially when it came to scouting stuff. We'd known each other since about first grade and were often mistaken for brothers. Over the years, we had our difference of opinions, fights (some pretty knock-down, drag-out ones, too) and time apart--but I was the Best Man at his wedding and I would still trust him with my life. Needless to say, when we hit the Dominion, we hit it together.
Waiting on line for the White Water Canyon ride (it's one of those where four or six people get in a big round rubber boat and bounce along a simulated river), we couldn't help but notice the attractive girls in line in front of us. We were, after all, fourteen. We were very happy when fate smiled upon us and got those girls stuck in the boat with us for the duration of the ride.
We chatted a little as the boat bounced off rocks and we barely avoided being drenched by the overhead waterfalls. I talked more than T did, I always have and I'm pretty sure I always will. It was a nice ten minutes or so.
When the ride was over we and the girls went our separate ways.
T and I wandered around for a few minutes, basking in the luck we had just experienced. It was shaping up to be a pretty good day at that point. And we would have been perfectly happy if that's all that had happened.
Imagine our surprise when, after waiting on line for a roller coaster, we discovered the same girls queued up next to us as the coaster car rolled to a stop.
All four of us decided we may as well ride the thing together and, after a wee bit of rearranging, T and I each had a lovely lady next to us. (I, of course, ended up with the more outgoing one while T was with the quiet one.)
The next few hours are still a blur of shared rides and conversations. I was loving it. I would find out a bit later that T wasn't so thrilled, but I still think that's his own fault. ;)
T and I were (and still are) kind of big guys. We always looked older than we were and we were precocious enough to fool most people without even trying. So was the case on this day. It turned out these were older women we were hanging with. Not too much older--just a couple of years--but when you're a 14-year-old guy, a 16- or 17-year-old girl is akin to the Holy Grail! I was even careful to not mention some things, like being about to start my freshman year in high school. That's a lesson I wish I had remembered a few years later (but that's another story...).
There were pictures taken. Those great little park "squish box" pictures. The ones that come back mounted in the little viewer you have to hold up to the light to see. It would be a while before they were ready, and T and I had to rejoin the troop for dinner, so we made plans with the girls to meet back at the park's Eiffel Tower in about an hour to continue our evening at one of the parks free shows. Everyone left--reluctantly, but happy.
Nearly two hours later, T and I made our way to the Tower. We were late. It was his fault. I knew that our chances of finding these girls again was slim to none. And if we did manage to find them, I was sure they'd be pissed something fierce with us for being so late.
As I dashed about the legs of the tower, hoping beyond hope that the girls would be running late too and dragging T along with me, he grew increasingly annoyed.
"Face it," he said, refusing to indulge me any longer, "we're a day late and a dollar short."
And I realized that was as true as anything.
Not only had we missed our chance to meet back up with the girls, we had left the tickets to claim the pictures in their hands.
All I have from that day is the memory.
Absolutely none of the other guys in our troop believed a word of the story. And there was no way to prove it actually happened.
To this day, I still hope that, somewhere, there's a woman with a little key chain photo of the four of us together packed away in a box. And some days, when I'm feeling really wistful, I imagine her taking it out, gazing into the cheap plastic lens and thinking...
"I wonder what ever happened to that guy..."