love, actually

As a parent I have had the not so unique experience of watching my 11 year old daughter fall for a boy for the first time. I say not so unique only because each and every parent will go through a first crush with  their child. For me strangely, it brought back a season of my own childhood that I had long since tucked into the heart on my sleeve. My first sincere feelings for another human other than my family...love, actually. 

Just like me, Piper fell for a boy who likes basketball, is quiet and kind, polite...and her friend first and foremost. He introduced her to hip hop and motor cross, the NBA and the awkward feeling every kid has when their crush knocks on their door for the first time. It is both sweet and terrifying.

Though I was only a seventh grader, the type of love I felt was more along the lines of curiosity and comfort in the acceptance and mutual interests of a certain boy. I would never have spoken to him (out of shyness and for the very fact that we may have never met) if not for the outcome of my parent's divorce when I was dislocated from our family home and relocated to a completely different neighborhood. I was isolated and alone and ... well, lonely. It is strange really after over twenty years I can recall each and every particle of the foison of emotions that I felt through this time. Some burn bright and still flare when I think on them, some drift in a fog, a distant coating of the background, a type of impressionist painting. 

I was used to a neighborhood teaming with tweeners. With the constant doorbell rings and pebbles thrown at windows to invite me to early or late pick-up ball games. Over nights, swimming pools, canoe rides in the local lake. It was a child paradise. And it was all behind me. As were my friends. It was weird,  I was now a sort of pariah...the lone wolf of divorced parents. It felt like in my upper class suburb, my old friends and their parents treated me as if it was contagious, as if I was contagious...Fuck, maybe I was. First the invites and phone calls stopped...Then the it was as if I never existed at all. I would like to say that once we all ended up in the same high school things got better....but really I just couldn't compete. Figuratively and literally. My mom was working class now, not some posh stay-at-home with an allowance. Sport were expensive, lessons were expensive...everything was expensive and I felt both the burden and the pressure of it all. And then we had to move.

It started like any other first meeting between kids in a relatively uncomfortable situation. My mother's side of the family was helping my mom and I, and the tag along siblings, unload the moving van. Full of her half of all the shit my parents had accumulated over the 15+ years of marriage, we were all long into the day and sinking further and further into the solemness of our task. Reality had sunk in and I watched as my mom slipped between bouts of uncontrollable crying short bursts of anger and sudden fatigue, then back again. I was exhausted and pissed off and all I wanted to do was shoot hoops with my friends...who now lived far away in the land of My Life is Still Normal while I was brooding in Fuckitall Town. I didn't even have a basketball goal anymore as it had the luxury of staying firmly embedded in concrete at our old family home. Lucky fucking me. (yeah, I know I was feeling sorry for myself, but I was 13)

So anyhow, there I was, sort of half-ass moving things from the truck to the garage when I heard the familiar thumping I so loved. The rhythmic hollow pound of a basketball hitting asphalt...and it was coming closer. I peered out from behind the moving truck as not to be caught by whomever it was, and I watched as a boy about my age dribbled the ball up the street and past my house to come to a stop in front of the last driveway on the block (conveniently located next door to my new house)...where nestled in the ground was an old worn out goal and a torn net. It was like a lifeline. 

We made eye contact in that strange way humans do that can only be described and as immediate acceptance. As an adult this is often referred to as chemistry or even love at first sight. For kids this is a mutual understanding and need. Maybe for friendship, maybe for someone to confide in...maybe out of shared loneliness. For the two of us it was a little of all these things....and the catalyst was the game of basketball. I looked around and realized everyone else was inside lifting or unpacking so I walked over and stood to the left of him and waited my turn. We fell into a pattern immediately just shooting and dribbling, sometimes working in some defense and blocking but really all we were doing was feeling each other out. After a while I noticed movement on my drive and saw that they were back at it so I walked home to continue my part. I realized two things. We hadn't said a single word and I didn't know his name.

The next day I was in my room in the basement when again I heard someone dribbling a basketball. I unlatched my basement window and slipped though the opening sticking my head up and out of the window well. There he was again. I threw on my shoes and headed out the garage door. Once again we fell into a pattern of basketball play but this time we spoke. All he said was "my name is Jason". All I said was "my name is Tammy". It was enough and we played until it started to become dark. 

This became our daily ritual. I would wait to hear him and then I would head out. After a while I started to wait in the driveway and even in the neighbor's driveway under the net. We started to become familiar with each other's habits and started talking a bit every now and again. But never a lot. We shared water out of those giant plastic blue cups everyone had back then and sometimes we even shared a snack cake or the occasional soda. Mainly we came together for the companionship. A partnership really. It was much different then the herd of kids I was used to playing basketball with in my old neighborhood. It was better. It was real friendship.

Then we really started to talk. We talked about music. We talked about public school...which I knew nothing about. We talked about my parent's divorce. We talked Led Zeppelin and punk rock. About soccer ...which I also knew nothing about, and David Copperfield. We talked about constellations and favorite cereal, the trains in Parkville and staying home while both your parents worked. And sometimes when we had nothing to say, we didn't need to talk at all again. This was one those friendships that people write novels about and make into a TV series....We had our own soundtrack and all the innocence adolescences affords. This was the very boy that snuck the Schnapps out of his parent's liquor cabinet and pulled up a lawn chair with me while we talked about the stars existence one fall night. We were in our Golden Years. Or Golden Year (ish) to be exact...We made it until summer. We made it to the point where we entered each others houses, dined at each others tables and talked to each others parents. We made it to the point where we held hands and sat too close to each other when no one was around. 

It was summer and all the parents worked. The whole neighborhood was unsupervised. This was my first summer there and it was completely different than I was used to. There were no stay-at-home moms bringing us donuts and Gatorade after swim practice. There was no one to check in with during the day unless you called their work. We all had unlimited freedom and limitless time. It was a recipe for disaster. My Grandma Aggie was at our house to take care of my younger siblings during the day but I could do basically what ever I wanted.

And it turns out there were kids in this neighborhood after all. I just didn't really fit in too well. I was naive and gullible and hadn't really tested any boundaries before. I was a bit uncomfortable for a while but found my groove, got on the swim team (which competed and always lost miserably to the powerhouse team of my old neighborhood) and started to socialize. 
There were kids from my private school that lived in the other side of the neighborhood and I started to hang out with them every now and again, though they were already pretty tight and I was new to the circle.....And then there was Travis....

Travis. What can I even say about him. He went to my school and I had known him for years. In sixth grade I thought he was cute. He was and still is quite a handsome guy. He was a trickster, a jokester really. He had no off button and pushed every envelope thrown at him. He only colored outside the lines. He was a typical 13 year old boy in the sense that he was rude, gross, and completely insensitive to human feelings. He lacked empathy and never ever got caught. 
He was also the most fun, the most daring, and lived only a couple blocks away.
Miracle of Miracles that somehow Jason and Travis didn't know each other yet.

Then I made a huge mistake. Cue screeching halt to partnership....You know what they say about a third wheel? Well it was me that became that third wheel. The odd man out...actually odd girl out, but whatever. It all started innocently enough.

I had bumped into Travis at the neighborhood pool and thought,"hey, Jason usually keeps to himself, but he may like Travis and since we only live a couple of blocks away....."
I don't know, it seemed like a good idea so I invited him over to our street and they had an instant liking to each other. They both played soccer, they both played soccer on Nintendo, they both like the same music....they were both boys. Suddenly I was the one with less common interests. No more basketball chats...they wanted to ride bikes to Parkville to pay for lunch at the diner in pennies (why?), play soccer, shoot off fireworks, jump fences and break shit. They skateboarded...better and faster than I did even though I had been skating since 5th grade. They liked Dr. Dre...and knew all the words. 

I didn't....
at all.
I grew less cool with each passing moment. They snuck out at night to do....well nothing really but they did it. When I tried, I got caught. Then there was a whole group of boys...doing boy things...having boy hangouts...living in the glory of their testosterone laden youth.

Suddenly I was sort of in the way. Not really sort of actually, I was in the way...of Travis. And the best way to get me out of the picture was to have Jason dump me. 

Now we weren't exactly an item, but we weren't exactly not an item.  
One afternoon I am quietly hanging inside. It was a Thursday, meet day and we weren't supposed to play outside in the heat so we could stay hydrated and swim our best that evening. The doorbell rang and Jason was out front. 
Weird. He knew I had a swim meet and he had been acting stand-offish lately so I had given him space and been feeling sorry for myself (again I was still 13).He asked if I wanted to come over and hang inside his house for a while. 
Also weird, as his mom and dad had made it very clear that no girls were allowed in the house while they were at work. But I am glad to see him and happy to come over if just for a little bit. I missed him and knew Travis was either headed over to his house soon or they would be hanging out later as they were now inseparable....And Travis could go inside the house because he was not a girl....(I was clearly the safer option, but whatever).

Not one to over-think things too much, I put on my imitation Birks and followed him down the street a few houses to his front door. I had a gut feeling that this was a bad idea, but I chalked it up to the guilty conscience I was having for entering his parents home without permission. I headed for the living room but he pulled my arm and said "I need to talk to you and it is private, and Aaron (brother) is in there. We can talk in my room".

Now all my internal bells and alarms were sounding....Jason was acting weird. Really weird, but again, desperate to have him to hang out with again I followed him to his room where he lead me to the foot of his bed and told me to sit down because he had to tell me something.

Then he said the most heard and most heartbreaking phrase every soul has had to listen to at least once in their lifetime.

"I don't want to go out with you any more".

This was all said while I was peering into the knowing gaze of David Copperfield flamboyantly posed on a poster.

"ok....don't cry. Just stand up and escape as fast as you can.
That was what I should have done, but instead....I remained still and FUCKING STARTED CRYING!
Now there was a brief shadow that passed over Jason's face. I knew he felt bad but I think I also knew it was coming. I stood with ZERO dignity and made it out the front door before the waterworks really started. I was almost to my house when I heard a familiar voice yell "Tammy....Tammy why are you crying?"
I turn around to see none other than Travis standing on Jason's porch taunting me.
Taunting me! 
"I hate you" I yelled.
"I hate you and this is all your fault!"
But that little shit, all giggling delivered the worst part of all..."I was in his closet! hahahaha...I heard the whole thing! And I video taped it. I video taped you getting dumped and crying!"

I would like to say that I was able to extract some sort of vengeance upon them both...but Travis ran inside and proceeded to tease me mercilessly from the front window behind locked doors.
I was a mess and false started twice during my butterfly swim that night. 

So now if you are still reading I just want to tell you that coming of age is hard for everyone, and clearly I was no exception. These weren't bad guys, just 13 year old boys. I don't believe for one second either of them thought that this would be one of those memories that sticks with you for a lifetime. What was a big deal to me was just another prank to them. I never found out if they actually recorded the breakup. Travis would make the occasional threat through out the rest of the summer when I saw him, but at the end of the day he just wanted me out of the picture (I really wasn't very much fun back then).

Jason and I didn't speak for almost an entire year. When we did the first thing he said was "I'm sorry". 
That was enough.
He and Travis and a couple other boys started a punk band. Somehow I was involved in the beginning of the project even playing a couple shows with them. Jason and the group rode it out a while without Travis (who had moved to a different band) and even made an album. It came out on tape. They were called 110 Volts. I took their photograph for their album art and still have all the original prints as well as the negatives...somewhere.

this was one of the pics for the album....^^^

During this whole process Jason and I became friends. Actual friends. My mother married a really great guy who had a son my age named Blake (he deserves his own entire chapter) and Jason and Blake became super tight. They went to college together, met a girl....Jason fell for her....and so on and so forth.

About 6 years ago Stephen and I were in Austin on our way to the coast. We met up with Jason for sushi and whiskey....because of coarse that is where he lives now. Long gone was the boy I had known, now replaced by a long haired hippie in a local band, wearing worn out second hand western shirts and a mile wide smile. He was still smart and pleasant and completely engaging in every way. Stephen loved him instantly. We learned about his band and his life...that he was now married to the very girl he met in college with my brother. 

Fast forward four years. I was sitting out front of a Caribou Coffee on 64th Street here in KC when I had a strange feeling. I was talking to my mom and was 6 weeks postpartum with Clover who was rocking in her car seat at my feet when suddenly I knew I had just seen Jason. Sure enough, pulling in the drive-thru was the whole beautiful family including a couple boys and a very lovely and pregnant wife....who I hugged.
"I knew it was you! I totally sensed you!" Thank goodness his wife is a hippie as well or that would have sounded super weird. When they left he said "bye mom" to my mom.
Then just 2 month ago Stephen and I were able to hang with Jason and Wife and all the kids at our house for a brunch. It was completely great and I adored her as much as I did him. The kids were awesome and they were both really interesting and dynamic people. I still felt connected to him...and her, and all the offspring. 

As for Travis....he is the craziest, luckiest SOB that ever did live and he is traveling the world, drinking copious amounts of booze, meeting all the beautiful and exotic people and doing it all behind the lens of his camera while under water. We still are in contact from time to time. I think he may be a bit of a Peter Pan though....and why should we all have to grow up anyhow?
  
He is part of this show here.
http://natgeotv.com.au/tv/into-the-drink/episodes.aspx 

https://www.facebook.com/intothedrink
and you can like them on facebook...hahahahahahaha.

As for love?..Actually, that is what is contagious. When you really love someone for all the right reasons...even for a season in life...even as a kid....Well, you somehow fall in love with everything they love. Somehow they are connected to you and you to them. Somehow that love helped form a piece of who you are and how you live. Because at the end of every day that is all that is left and all that ever mattered....love, actually.