When I was around 10/11 years old, a family of South Koreans moved a couple houses down on the block I've lived on my entire life. By this point, most of the people on the block considered that house haunted, and for a while, so did I--more on that in a later post. What I didn't know is that two kids living in that house would turn out to be--with some semblance of legendary status--a couple of my best friends.
Danny and Tommy were whirlwinds. If any of you thought I was hyper-active, then with these two combined, in comparison, you could have practically created a tornado. Danny is two years older me, and at the time he towered over Tommy and my other childhood best friend Todd. Every single day, if we had the chance, we'd create some activity that involved half of the neighborhood. Whether it was football, soccer, wiffle ball/stick ball, basketball, hacky-sack, you name it, we did it.
Over the next couple years we all bonded and got really close. We even got into little nerdy games like Yu-Gi-Oh! One thing that impressed Todd and I the most about these two: their incredible ability to break dance. Tommy was only 9 years old, and Danny was between 12 and 13 years old, and these kids already looked like pros. I mean, I was 11ish so anything where anyone was performing acrobatics of any kind probably made my jaw drop in wonderment. Todd and I knew that they had really decent upper-body strength to do all of these fancy hand-stand style break dancing moves, so we had to ask them: How are you guys this strong already? Their answer: Karate.
Unbeknownst to us, Danny and Tommy's mother and father were both multi-degree black-belts. One of the awesome pieces of memorabilia that they showed us in their house subsequent to telling us these facts was a medal given to their father for performing 1,000 push-ups in a row. Once again, jaws were dropping everywhere. Todd and I knew that if we wanted to do what they did, and we DEFINITELY did, then we would have to start training. Who better to train us than some break dancing Korean kids, right? Exactly.
In a pretty short time, Todd and I could basically do everything Danny and Tommy could do. Not nearly as tight and impressive, but still, it took a lot for us to build up muscle strength we never had. Along the way, they also taught us what they knew about martial arts. Although they were never awarded belts, they were taught quite a lot from their parents, which was apparent by how disciplined they were. Sometimes we would spar. Danny would always win, as well he should. Sometimes, Todd or myself would beat/accidentally hurt Tommy, and then we had to run away from Danny--I've never run faster in my life, guaranteed.
Over the winter months, we still did the same sports activities. When it snowed, we stuck to football, sledding, and snow-ball fights. Unfortunately, we can't really do the latter two at any other point throughout the year, so that was definitely a little different. One day in January, Todd and I had a massive war-like snowball fight between Danny and Tommy. We were going at it for hours with strategy, snow forts, and slush buckets (for those unfamiliar with this term, it's when you fill a bucket with mostly water, and dip the snow in the water to give that extra explosion on connected throws). At some point it got too dark to continue; we called a "truce" and went inside expected to have more fun the next day.
That next day, I went over to Todd's. He lived right across the street from Danny and Tommy, and ever since we were even younger kids, we would make sure we were accounted for before doing anything with anyone else. Once he was ready, we went right over to knock for Danny and Tommy, but there was some strange things we noticed: their basketball net was gone, their cars were gone, and there was an eeriness as we went up to knock on their door. Even though we figured they weren't home, we knocked anyway. No one answered. We attempted the same thing for the next couple days until we noticed a new tenant was entering the house.
Danny and Tommy were gone.
( 12 years later; 2 months ago )
Well, it's about that time, again. Every other year my family takes a trek to Disney World, and this is that "other year," though, at 23 years old, it's likely my last. Although we just flew (some of us for the first time in a long time) for my brother's wedding down in the Virgin Islands, my mom and dad still wanted to drive down to Florida. Ugh. For those wondering: 18 straight hours in a car can sometimes feel like the equivalent of water-boarding. After the first 10 hours of the same road you feel like screaming, "I'LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST DON'T DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!!"
Before heading onto I-95, that seemingly limitless road I just mentioned, we decided to hit Wawa for dinner. (For those that are not from the Northeast quadrant of the US [or Kissimee, Florida]: 1. Why are you reading MY blog? You haven't figured out that I suck, yet? 2. Wawa is a convenient store recognized as the second best convenient store in the country next to some place in Tulsa. You can get gas, customize your own sandwiches, soups, panninis, etc. for someone else to make, get drinks, get fruit, get odds-and-ends, get cash from an ATM for free, be merry, etc. In other words, if you've never been to one, get yourself to this side of the country/world/wherever you are and try this stuff. And for low prices! Yes, I know I sound like a spokesman--I'm not--but you'll understand my enthusiasm once you give it a try.) My dad and I entered. He made sure to get the coffee for my mother, and I made sure to get the sandwiches. When I went back to the coffee counter to assist my dad, I noticed a familiar face that popped out of their back room. It was Danny. No mistaking him. He looked/looks exactly the same as 12 years ago. I say to my dad, "Please tell me I'm not out of my mind, that's Danny, right?" My dad looks over, and we both walk over to semi-creepily ask, "Are...are you Danny?" He looks right at me and goes, "PAT?!?! No way!" We talk briefly about how everything is going. I was so shocked to see him that I practically and spontaneously contracted PTSD. (Yes, I know what PTSD is, and I know that the following symptom doesn't necessarily correlate. I was attempting a joke. Please don't hurt me.) My dad and I left the wawa to start our trek down to DW, and I DIDN'T REMEMBER TO GET HIS NUMBER! While my dad started the drive, I frantically texted Todd--after all these years, we remained really close, and a lot of that had to do with not...mysteriously...vanishing... Todd let me know that he planned to go to that specific Wawa, since Danny clearly worked there, to see if he could see Danny, but at the very least, nab his number.
About a week later, I had just returned back from a very relaxing and eventful Disney trip (minus the driving), and Todd texts me to let me know that we plan to all meet at a bar not far away to meet as a group for the first time in 12 years--he got Danny's number, I couldn't believe it. Once we arrived, and after calming down from the nostalgia, Danny let us know--long-story short--that his parents spontaneously divorced and moved away. Danny and Tommy were forced to live with their grandparents for the better part of the next 7 or so years until Danny was able to provide for himself and his brother. Tommy, who we didn't get to see that night, turned out to be a phenomenal basketball player--he was terrible when we were little--who received scholarship to play for Syracuse! Unfortunately, he suffered an injury that kept him from playing, but the story itself was both sad and incredible. They literally rose from the ashes and made great things out of themselves. Tommy lives up in New York, and Danny lives in Northeast Philly, and is ready to enter bootcamp for the Army in late December.
Do you remember your first love? Perhaps, first crush of some kind? Remember how you felt when they went away, broke up with you, or disappeared? Did you ever wonder what it would be like to see them again, talk to them again, etc? You probably talked a lot about them like they were gods/goddesses, or maybe you kept those great memories to yourself. Although it wasn't a romantic tie, Danny and Tommy were those memorable best friends that Todd and I were lucky enough to have in our lives growing up. I won't speak for Todd, but I talked about Danny and Tommy to hundreds of subsequent friends of mine like they were the first known Pegasuses ever to be seen with the human eye. To me, they were legends. In the little time they were around before their disappearance, they aided in forming me.
So, why have I said all of this? Well, it's simple. A lot of people take the past for granted. A lot of people assume that we should never go back to the past and to always stay in the present. But, the fact is, the PAST you IS the PRESENT you. There is no present "you" without the past "you." I'm not saying to harp on all the bad events that have potentially plagued you for the rest of your life, I mean LEARN from them. Remember them always. Never forget they happened, because the lessons that you learned from the past will ultimately aid in your decision making for the future. Though it was sad to see them go when I was younger, I never forgot these friends. I never forgot the lessons I learned from having these friends. I never forgot how strange the time was after their disappearance and the certain things I learned about myself. I know this doesn't sound like anything new or profound. It's not meant to be. I just think this is a good reminder that just like bad things, there's an equal chance of good or great things coming back into your life. LIVE for those potentials, and the potential of meeting other great people and experiencing other great moments. I say this because I think as we all get older, THOSE MOMENTS are what keep us going. Yeah, that girl, guy, ex-friend/ex-best friend, ex-fiance, etc. might have been COMPLETE assholes at the end of your time together, but ask yourself this question: would you really take those times you spent with them away? I know I told an ultimately happier story, and that this kind of emotional depth is probably not what you expected, but it's related and important.
No matter what a person did to me in my life--whether they benefited me or harmed me--I won't forget any of them. I can't. If I do, then I feel like I lose. A lot of people have come up to me regarding my negative past to say, "If you let them affect you, then they've won." Wrong. I 100% disagree. If I DIDN'T let them affect me, then I've lost. I also don't think we should just remember the good things. Good things are phenomenal, but they can aid in our ignorance. When we get cut, our bodies create a stronger fold of skin called a scar. Key word: stronger. When we get hurt emotionally, yeah, the pain might linger, but once you're healed, you'll be stronger than ever. Sometimes that strength changes us a bit, but that's life. We shouldn't fear change. If your friends stop being your friends because of the change, then chances are they weren't much of friends to begin with.
This post kind of ended in a long tangent, but for those that continued reading: Thanks! It may have made you a bit introspective. If you're not used to that, a good night's sleep will do. You'll forget all of this by morning. =P
- PatInTheHat
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