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Spirits December 19, 2013

Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.
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When my high school buddy Pat and I headed off to the memorial service of an old friend and former teacher, the one who brought the two of us together in the first place, I brought along my workhorse Stanley flask, filled with what I like to think was bourbon but was probably Jameson, maybe as nod to Dewey, and the plan was to take a swig in the high school parking lot before we headed into the auditorium, but when we got there, the place was packed, and after finding a parking space, we forgot, and we went in and claimed our seats and settled in and then I headed to the bathroom one last time before what was sure to be a lengthy service, and it was crazyheady being back in my high school, in that corridor, in that bathroom, and there in the stall I realized that the flask was in my pocketbook, so I unscrewed the top and took that big swig, toasting my friend, certainly, but also thinking Isn’t it odd that I never did this in high school?, that is, break the rules by drinking on school grounds—or did I? could I possibly have gotten through the years without at least swilling a bit of beer behind the bleachers at a football game?—I don’t remember, but surely I never had a sip of alcohol within school walls, not when I was 15 and the act was more age appropriate, but that night, newly 51, it felt utterly freeing in the sweet singular way that being bad can.

stanley-flask-green

Comments»

1. Mali - December 21, 2013

Wonderful – from the title, to the last sentence. “Being bad” sometimes can be exhilarating. You’ve reminded me I need to do it more. (A confession: I was “bad” this week, and it was fun!)

indigobunting - December 21, 2013

Yay! Bad Mali!


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