THOUGHTS I NORMALLY KEEP IN MY HEAD, part XV

     The father of one of my childhood friends died last week and since his wake was within walking distance, I attended. He and I have rarely spoken in the past sixteen or so years and it was strange seeing all those faces again. I hate the increasing numbers of ever-present reminders that our time on this world is limited. I have no grandparents left and my father is already gone, the generation ahead of mine is getting picked off one-by-one and bringing to the forefront my own mortality.

     Seeing my childhood friend's father lying in state did however, remind me of some important memories. I appreciated that like my own father, he never kicked my brother and me out. We were always invited. I don't recall ever eating over there (aside from snacks) whereas many of my brother and I's friends would eat by Dad's (the idea being, if it's dinnertime and you're over, everyone eats), but for many weekends, it was an endless sea of videogames, cartoons, and the occasional adventure outdoors. His father unwittingly provided us with my first Playboy magazine (not the first one I had ever seen, but the first one I had seen since pubescence...the first one that mattered). It was the October 1991 issue.

Playmate of the Month: Cheryl Bachman

     I ordered the back issue of that one years ago precisely because of that memory. I also saw my first porno at that house too. And like the Playboy magazine, I had seen one beforehand, but I wasn't ready for it at the time. Although I don't know its title (if I did, I would totally get a copy of it somewhere, somehow), it was the first one I had seen that mattered.

     That's what his father ultimately meant to me. And to be clear, he did not show us these things. He was at work (as was my friend's mother). No, my friend knew of the "secret stash" and happily showed us its contents. And while it may be sad to think of someone for being remembered thusly, I remind you, in the pre-internet age, a boy's first playboy and porno were important milestones in his adolescence. They were rarely encountered and you had to take what you could get. I got lucky the first centerfold I ever saw was as pretty as Ms. Bachman. It could've gone anywhere honestly. The post-internet generation will never appreciate those things. I guess that makes me officially old.