Wearing Out My Welcome

A couple of weeks ago, an old radio friend of mine whom I haven't heard from in decades found me on the internet and sent me an email. I was thrilled. There's nothing like hearing from someone who knew you in a much earlier time. It's like getting a piece of yourself back that you didn't even know was missing. I've had this kind of thing happen before, and I always get very excited. I guess a little too excited.

Almost without fail, I've messed this kind of thing up each time. I'm so jazzed to hear from old friends that I go way over the top with the whole process of catching up. They must feel like I've been totally alone since they last saw me.

At my most recent high school reunion, I was so excited to see my old friend Ricky Kirk, that I totally creeped him out recalling the entire layout of his parents' old home. (You could tell he wanted to run and hide, but I would've tracked him down in that little study right off the guest room on the west side of the house.) When college chum Bruce Boyd wrote me an email a few years ago, I responded in my usual way and never heard from him again. And the old radio friend I told you about has no doubt applied to the Internet Protection Program by now since I haven't heard back from her either.

The problem, which isn't really a problem, is that I really like my life. I always have. And I really like the people who have been, are in, or are attempting to be back in my life. I make it a point not to just talk about me. I ask a lot of questions. I always want to know what old mates have been up to. I also don't always expect old friends to be new best friends. Sometimes just saying, "I was thinking about you, even after all these years" is enough. I'm more than happy with that. I just want to somehow express how thrilled I am to hear from them without having them think that I'm one of those old friends whose brain chemicals have shifted just enough that they're now pressing cat poop into scrapbooks. In fact, of all the people I know, I've evolved the least. I've been doing the same job for 29 years, I still play guitar in a band, and I love to take pictures and play golf. There's no unknown to fear about me.

It must be like dating I guess. You're not supposed to call the new girl back right away. You're supposed to be aloof. So from now on, I'm holding back. Words liked "thrilled" are going to be replaced by "surprised". "It's so cool that you tracked me down" will change to "It's a good thing I double-checked my spam folder". And "Write back soon" will be substituted with "Gotta run", which I actually do because my cat just finished dinner and I have some memories to preserve!