Nice To Catch Up
By James Bridges
Growing up I often had a lot of “cool” friends. One of my best was considered somewhat of a catch to the many qualified individuals standing in line to be his next girlfriend.
I found out the other day that he is now growing cannabis commercially here in Oklahoma. I knew the day would come as I recalled all of those “schools out early” afternoons driving around, smoking some of the best ditch brick “weed” we could find and both singing every single word to Kashmir.
We reminisced about some life advances and some moves not so much in the forward direction. He told me of one of his biggest regrets. It was not at all what I had thought. After knowing him in high school through college years, I would have assumed him to be covered in gifts from the universe. He was, in my eyes, a charmed person.
We used to talk about how we would someday be badass, baseball stars. The largest accomplishment we could both foresee was to one day walk up to home plate with a kick ass song playing over the loudspeakers.
He wanted me to consider hope.
I’ve always thought of hope to be something given to those in need of direction in a positive light. I never really looked at it within myself as guidance. However, I knew deep down that hope had been a major player when it came to decisions in my life.
It’s hard to admit sometimes, but I truly believe that hope has value. I imagine conservative thinkers to snicker and shuffle if they were to read those words.
He said that much of his life, it seemed, he had something on his mind. An idea of sorts. One that gave him a sense of purpose. A quest if you will. One that he recently discovered. Yet it was there all along. Some call it an imagination.
He said to consider that imagination as truth. He hadn’t found the courage to do so himself.
He noticed a twinkle in my eye. He said he figured I had some hope left in me.
We took a few last tokes off of a blunt that should have been rolled 20 years ago. I “hope” to run into my old friend again very soon.