Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Happy Birthday, Corey Cooper

I am over it, really. I will post on your Facebook wall later in the day, because right now I am the fourth person and that puts me in creeper status, even creepier than you already think I am. But then the right hand sign of Facebook said I should 'reconnect with you' and maybe that is a sign, but a sign of what? I am in Minneapolis and you are in Wisconsin, and I'm pretty sure you're not on my team, and I can't listen to "All I Want for Christmas is You" without thinking of the night I left my heart on the whorebox when I saw you kissing that girl, and I am convinced that Swedish pop superstar Robyn was witnessing the entire scene and used it as the inspiration for a song she would later release titled "Dancing On My Own".

I have been into signs from the universe lately. I had a dream two nights ago that my father got arrested for a DUI. Tonight I walked to the local pub and he was there too, slurring up a storm.
"You are not driving," I said, and I told him of my dream.
"God bless you, son," he said, "But I am an excellent drunk driver. I've done it for 35 years."
"But my dream!" I cried. "You should let me drive."
"How many drinks have you had?"
"You weigh a hundred pounds. You'll be a toke over the line, too."

When we got in his truck he was putting the wrong key in the ignition, and I freaked out because I had left my iPod in the bar.
"I have to go back in!" I cried. "I left my iPod."
"Jesus Christ," he sputtered.
"Oh, wait," I said. "My iPod is in my back pocket." "And you worry about me." "But I'm just spacey. You're drunk."
He drove the quarter mile home with me in the passenger side and we were fine, but I worry.
"Do you have a savings plan?" he asked. "Will you ever move out of my house?"
"Hey," I cried. "I walked home from work with $7 in cash because I had one account and one declined account."
"Well, California, here we come."

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I stayed in Wisconsin. I only talked to Corey Cooper once during my tenure there (our other deep conversations, like when I asked how tall he was, occurred after I left and was just visiting). Maybe I would have graduated and had a big boy job, working at a clinic or family center. I would have had no pipe dreams of show business or fleeting fame. I would have been normal and happy. I would even have had good sex. I am not saying that sex is the most important thing in the world, but it is one of my what-if's, like having a driver's license when I was in high school.

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