I have to post this blog, because the story needs to be recorded where others will see it, in the hopes that they might reference the story as a clear manifestation of spiritual involvement. Like fate. Or Nabu, the Assyrian god of knowledge and destiny.
This story is absolutely true. There is no embellishment for shock purposes.
Dan C. was a goody buddy of mine in high school. On weekend nights we would drive over to the Silver Diner on Rockville Pike dressed up in tuxedos. We would assume our regular position in the corner booth and send drinks to girls at other tables. Accompanying these drinks were napkins with pickup-lines scribbled. When the girls didn’t respond, we laughed at their missed opportunity, and heralded our premier position at the corner booth by slogging down french fries dipped in Old Bay sauce. We had a waitress named Ellen who we thought loved us. Now that I’m an adult, and can reflect on the situation, I bet Ellen hated our guts and secretly spit in our fries. We were some obnoxious teens. And we had driver’s licenses and a curfew past midnight.
I graduated high school back in 1991, the last year that U.S. teenagers spoke English in complete sentences. That was also the last year I ever saw Dan C. I went off to college, and while we spoke a couple times afterwards over the phone, we never reconnected. At least I have the memories of the good ‘ole days.
Fast forward to 2005, a year during which the majority of U.S. teenagers have identified the term “literacy” as a form of cancer. I’m in the process of cleaning out my basement. I’m going through all kinds of old boxes when I come across my high school yearbook from 1991. While flipping through the pages, I read where friends signed my yearbook from 14 years ago. I see Matt’s writing. And Kevin’s. Even Ben.
Then I come across Dan C.’s writing AND IT IS THE EXACT MOMENT THAT THE PHONE RINGS AND IT IS DAN C. CALLING ME AFTER 14 YEARS.
I recall that after the basement stopped spinning, my first words to Dan were, “Is this some kind of joke? Are you for real? What?”
So you can all have your 5,000 word posts on religion and faith. Based on my experience, Dan C. is a god.
Good ol’ Ellen
I don’t think she hated us. Have you forgotten the $7 tip on 1 hour and 1 basket of fries? And how we used to walk past lines of people to get the very next open booth? Oh yeah…
As additional proof of my all-power, you’ll note that barnson.org has not gone off-line since my arrival on the site. Clearly my power in sustaining the server cannot be dismissed out-of-hand by some “scientist.”
Your story is a great example of the supernatural at work in our lives. I mean, what other explanation is there?
My experience with Dan
We were in Jazz Band together. We were in Seminary together. We were in church every Sunday together. His dad was my scoutmaster, IIRC.
He was the one guy in church that was always nice to me. Well, except one time when I was being a jerk and he called me on it.
That’s Dan. Just one nice guy.
—
Matthew P. Barnson
Dan..
I don’t think I knew Dan. nope.. i knew Dan Cardile and Dan Celotta.
i have a friend now named daniel ross.
Hi Dan!
Words…
Heh, as of this writing, this thread stands at 6,989 words. Good guesstimate 🙂
—
Matthew P. Barnson
My religious experience
I remember when I was in elemntary school, and they were raffling off a turkey for Thanksgiving. I bought $5 in raffles, and I remember knowiing quite clearly I was going to win. I evern told my mom the day of the raffle I would be rbinging a turkey home that evening.
And I won. There was a little hub bub around the house after that, but I don’t think my family thought I was a seer. More likely I got luck and called one.
But I do remember being so sure I was going to win, it was a certainty to me. And I can honestly say I’ve never, ever had that feeling again.
And I remember my friendship with Sam was probably forged the moment we both walked in to the common room at our dorm at UMBC ready to go find the other and skate around playing hockey. It was a “great minds think alike” moment.
I personally wonder about those polls that show kids are stupid. I wonder if the pollers truly take a random sampling, or do they pick the kids who will give the better story?
Though I do feel knowledge of popular culture is superceding knowledge of anything substantial. Image is everything.
My $.02 Weed
Oldness
I strongly suspect that our sentiments along these lines have been shared by all adults of similar age as they watch the youth grow up. We were never that shallow, obsessed with our looks, or ill-educated.
I don’t think it reflects a downward trend so much as a perception of the downward trend by the up-and-coming old geezers 🙂
—
Matthew P. Barnson
Sam..
I knew Sam before I knew Matt. i used to bug Sam and try to get him to hang out with me.
I think Sam passed me on to matt because he lost a bet. Pretty soon Matt was hanging out with me and I didn’t see Sam unless I was supposed to hang out with matt and matt had to bail.
that happened one time, and Sam showed me the first Star Trek I ever really got into. It featured the introduction of the Romulan Sela.
Later, i played a Romulan for three years at Kings Dominion. Wearing the mask gave me smile lines and the wig made my hairline recede a little.
Sam made me old.
Damn you Sam. Damn you.
Repeat The Favor
Justin, I can repeat the favor. Let me tell you what’s going to happen to you after your 30th birthday. It ain’t good.
Irritating…
Are you speaking of:- The hair that seems to creep from the top of your head and end up on your back and butt?
- The paunch that no amount of sit-ups seems to cure?
- The realization that it takes a little bit more light to read than it used to?
- The constant, slight pain from (insert accident or wound here)?
- The fact that the hair everywhere but your head starts to grow three times faster than usual?
- In your ears?
- In your nose?
- On your toes?
Wait, no, maybe that’s just me 🙂
—
Matthew P. Barnson
You named it earlier..
Its my post-20s.
you said that like a year ago, and I still quote it.
And I still have 6 months, 4 days to go… woo hoo!!
Old-Man Hands
I was cuddling on the couch with Christy the other night, and looked at the back of my hands.
“I have old-man hands,” I said, startled.
“Yes, you do,” she agreed.
The wrinkles and creases have started to get more pronounced. The veins are starting to stand out. The hair’s growing in thicker (I sense a theme here…). The nails, while healthy and strong, are thicker and tougher than they used to be. My eczema has caused some permanent scarring on my palms and fingers. Because I work with with sheet metal (hey, it’s part of being a UNIX admin), I have little cuts here and there in various stages of healing.
Not to mention the old cyanoacrylate (super glue) sticking here and there. I mentioned to a seventeen-year-old online friend of mine the other night that I had taken up building and flying model airplanes. He told me, “you act so young in everything else, you play video games, you play the guitar… model airplanes are for people who are forty years old or older! Retirees and stuff! Ugh!”.
Thirty-two going on sixty-seven, not a teenager anymore…
—
Matthew P. Barnson
Getting old..
Man… You’re old!!!! Just kidding. While I may not be having the same problems as you on the outside… My body doesn’t recover the same way it used to. I also find myself making the same noises that I used to make fun of my dad for making when he was getting in and out of chairs. Yeah things start to go down hill after you hit 30. Which is why I’ll be having my 4th Annual 29th birthday this Nov. 🙂
BTW Hi Dan… — Bryan
Dont forget..
The bad back.. its a B**ch as well.
You know you’re really old…
…when even your four-year-old hits you with a “Dad, you’re so old!” after learning how many years is between her meager 4 years, and my many 32 years. I’ve been teaching her one of my favorite comebacks, though, if that’s any comfort, from Raiders of the Lost Ark, ‘It’s not the years, it’s the mileage’.
It’s hard too, for us geezers, when talking with the next generation about the things they missed out on because they were little kids. Challenger, the first Gulf War, a decent Star Trek on TV, you know, the little things that matter. My assistant was barely in elementary school when we are at Quince Orchard. That jars you.
And Lisa, she has no sympathy. Which means I find myself mercilessly reminding her of certain gray hairs…to which she points out, I’ve been graying since the Stone Age.
Dan, good to have you around!
It’s fun to find old friends. And as I hear, you’ve been lurking around for quite some time without posting, so I’d venture to guess that you know us pretty well if you didn’t before!
I’m Matt’s wife! He’s still a hoot to be around. Between him, our four children and our cat, there’s never a dull moment around here. My children practically worship the ground Matt walks on. For example, Elijah, our 3 year old, will take his little plane outside to fly it, and then come back in the house and tell me that it’s too windy to fly today. They’re so darn cute.
And about the gray hairs, that’s what hair color is for! I found a great color to hide my 31 years and four kids. It wasn’t ’til my third pregnancy that I started getting grays, so it’s definately the kids fault. But I have to say that having little kids around helps keep me young. My 20 month old sure keeps me running.
Speaking of running, I ran 2 1/2 miles without stopping last night! Woohoo. I’m still young. I’m training to run a 5K in November!
My hands might be starting to wrinkle, but I’m still young at heart!–
Christy
The pick up line….
Anyone remember the pick up line we used to write on the napkin? You forget that although not an original Silver Diner man, you brought me along several times for fun & good luck. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk by again?” -classic.
Sam: Where’s the book
Sam had a book of all the geat lines from high-school and college. I wonder if he still has it.
I probably heard of a bunch of you through that before I ever met you here.
Who had the lines.
“Hey baby, I’m going to take you to heaven and back.”
“No, wait. I’m going to take you to heaven, hang around for a while, then come back.
Or something like that.
“Death, taxes and the Friday quiz” Weed
Hi Kevin!
HEY KEVIN!!
Can you email me?? Its dani.schuman at gmail.com
*hugs*!! Dani
Man..
Man… chicks from the past NEVER do that to me.
——– *This signature is an experiment in Google Bombing mot propre
Your pic
It’s probably your pic. Get a picture of yourself holding a huge billfold of cash. Then you’ll get the chicks. In truckloads.