I really shouldn’t be here writing this blog tonight. I should be having this conversation with God himself. I came that close to dying tonight and I’m still not over it. I got called late to take a boy out to Peabody, KS and on the way back I came within seconds of a very bad head-on crash with two other cars because some teenager was playing chicken on US 50. The only reason three or four people aren’t dead on the highway or badly mangled is my sixth sense for impending doom. Then this old song came on my CD player”Why me, Lord? What have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I’ve known?”.
As I’m driving with the light slowly fading away after sunset and a huge storm brewing 50 miles to the north and Bambi’s relatives strolling within a few feet of my car, I’m having a really hard time coming to terms with this little revelation. God must be saving me for something special. “Maybe Lord, I can show someone else what I’ve been through myself on my way back to you.”
We don’t get that many second chances at life and when we do, we need to make the most of it. I hope I will never take my life for granted again and to that end I feel an urgent need to give thanks to a lot of people who helped make my life the wonderful adventure it has surely been and will apparently continue to be for some time to come. But just in case my days are numbered I would sincerely like to give credit to some of my best friends and other memorable bit players.
This new exercise in blogging may take more than one attempt and since I have several more long days on the road ahead of me, I will just start with the oldest memories first and keep adding later so this particular post is going to be up for a while. There really isn’t anything more important or timely on my mind right now anyway so here goes, please be patient.
About the time I was promoted to the accelerated class in grade school, I was introduced to a great group of friends. Steve Smith, who taught me all about the weird things you can do with dry ice. Steve Levine, who taught me all about being Jewish. Glen Posladek, who let me look at his Dad’s Playboy collection. Jeff Wright, who tried to hurt me in football practice but was so slow he never could catch me. Don Perkins, who was willing to go along with my idea for vandalizing my teacher’s car. Pat Schwab, who always reminded me of Popeye for some reason. Lynn Pollard, who was my first girlfriend and taught me all about breaking up. But most of all, I want to thank Missy Fortenberry. Missy was the first girl who ever thought I was funny. She laughed at pretty much anything I said. She would laugh out loud at the lamest jokes and puns and then just roll her eyes and shake her head in amazement. I will never forget the time she actually asked me to come to her house to work on a school project with Lynn and the whole group. It was the 6th grade equivalent of tea with the royal family, as the Fortenberry’s were well-known and well-off. Even my Mom made sure I wore clean clothes and extolled the virtues of good manners on this auspicious occasion. Missy still laughs at my jokes and I know she reads this blog often so for a half century of friendship and the coincidence of her birthday tomorrow I will dedicate this part of the blog to her. Thanks for everything Missy, I will keep making jokes as long as you keep laughing.
©Guy R. Horst and grhgraph.wordpress.com, 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Guy R. Horst and grhgraph.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content