The Man
Now, Bones is a married man, a married man with children. Proof that change is possible. Periodically, I bump into him, and marvel at how he has not changed, physically. He’s still in amazing shape; his profession is that of a personal trainer, and he is his own walking advertisement. It’s sort of like – Take a look at me, yep, I know what I’m doing. Do you want to make an appointment?
Now, we’re equal on many levels. Physically, he still can destroy me, but we have the same concerns, worries revolving around young children, homes, mortgages, and the plethora of troubles time passed rests on your heart and soul.
We shake hands, and exchange the obligatory questions and answers old friends share when they have not seen one another for a long time, maybe a “too long” period of time. Bones has changed. He’s mellowed. I’ve changed. I’ve mellowed. We had to. With that mellowing, dare I say life learned, earned wisdom, comes a price everyone initially has to pay, and settle up with the omnipotent bookkeeper that is life. The cost is change, and the over whelming awkwardness that follows the initial:
“So, how are you?”
“How’s work?”
“How’s the family?”
“Hey, have you seen, or heard from fill in the blank?
Maybe it’s just that, we’re men now, not wreck less man-children with nothing hanging over our head but the following morning of recovery and recollection. We don’t paint houses together anymore; we don’t share countless blue collar, bonding work hours. Times change. Men change. Even Bones has to change. The surface is the same, so is mine, pretty much, but the underlying soil is not as vital, and is not as capable of troublesome, late, late night adventures and the havoc left behind.
The Myth
Growing up Bones was a myth. He graduated high school as I just entered, and the stories that circulated throughout the hallways were amazing, hard to believe, but after spending numerous summers with him, well they were more than unbelievable they were real. I bared witness to some of them. I participated, and ended up instigating some of them. I’m proud to be a minor, minor character in the mythology of Bones.
The Legend
When I told some of my friends that summers were spent working with Bones, well I became a legend myself, a humble sidekick to the iconic Bones, as stated before a minor character in the epic story of the man himself, Bones. A plethora of questions were asked, most of them foolish. I guess with legend status comes hyperbole, and misinterpretation of simple facts and stories. Most people thought Bones was crazy, but he really wasn’t; he just had a zest for life and it became contagious. Some painted him a degenerate; he wasn’t, he just had a different set of social norms. It’s safe to say he pushed the envelope with comedic conclusions. As time has passed, and years moved along, the legend has grown becoming a staple in my hometown’s history and lore. If you are a wrestler, a house painter, and a self-proclaimed lady-killer in The Lawn, my hometown, then you have heard of Bones, and his many, many international sorted tales. Without knowing it you have been influenced by his life.
The Aftermath
I’m a slow start, a stunted learner so just now am I beginning to fully understand how the times spent with Bones has impacted me, both positively and negatively. Undoubtedly, he has had a profound influence on me. There are plenty of stories to sift through, and interpret. I’m looking forward to the process, a self-diagnosis, a self-evaluation. Freud and Bones would be proud. Hell, Freud could’ve reinvented himself and for the second time around change the thinking of modern man if he was to do a case study based on the doings of Bones.
Between Karaoke Mike, Lola, Zippy, Needle D, Trent, and an endless ensemble of individuals, some yet to be introduced to you good people, I think it’s safe to say, my social palette is a colorful one indeed.
Next: Grandpa’s Sciatic Nerve Is Acting Up
Resist. Multiply. Thank Bones.
