Fast Eddie and Michael

The two gentlemen above met me at a local brewery the other day.  The young man on the right is Eddie Johnson, a great high school friend who, sadly closed his eyes when the the camera flashed.  The younger man on the left is his son, Michael, who lives in Wesley Chapel, about 25 minutes from Tampa.  The elder Johnson was visiting from Peoria.  I had not seen them since 2002.  Eddie is a bit of a recluse by choice and stay-at-home-babysitter just like me.

Eddie and I used to cruise around back in school often heading to the Quad Cities to visit irreputable stripper joints if we could get in.  One such place was Pete's Midwest which didn't seem too worried about ages or who ordered their beer.  It was a sort of peek into the adult world for us both and I'm glad I did it with Eddie, because along with Eddie was a great sense of humor.

He drove a cool '62 Chevy and I guess my memory created something out of nothing because I thought it was white, but Eddie assured me it was Robin's Egg blue.  He began dating Pam and I was kicked to the curb, figuratively, and found other laughs and activities to fill the weekends.  But for awhile is was me and Fast Eddie.

He lived with his mom out in Sugar Grove, a small enclave about three miles North of Aledo.  Marguerite was the sweetest lady and when I'd arrive I wanted to spend a little time with her; it seemed like we were always rushing off.  I always thought Marguerite was one of those wonderfully cheerful people who had far too much sorrow in her life.  She lost her husband at a young age, and then her oldest son died in a semi-accident.

Eddie went on to serve in the National Guard, and graduated as a civil engineer from the Morrison Institute of Technology.  From there he was hired by the City of Peoria and worked there till he retired in 2004.  He married and had three kids.

Michael is one of them and, yes, Eddie and Deb named him after me.  Why?  I have no idea.  Anyway, my namesake is as funny and charming as his Dad.  He coaches football and teaches English up there in Wesley Chapel, and also has a boat that he has been instructed by Pops to take me for a ride someday.  He talks a mile a minute and one of those guys who makes sense and commands attention.  I suspect he'll be pretty good at coaching.

I invited Brendan to join us and the symmetry was amazing - 2 dads, 2 sons.  Both Dads palled around when they were but teens, themselves.  Anyway, we decided to meet for a beer or two at 3:00 and ended up leaving the place at 9:30.  We rehashed some stories from the past:  In going through some old boxes I recently found an old driver's license.  It was the one Eddie and I doctored for purposes of obtaining illegal adult beverages, and it worked a few times, but then Zeke got onto us and we had to use it in out-of-town shops.  We listened to Elvin Bishop and his one-hit wonder which back then was a song we both sang to while cruising, and thanks Brendan for finding it on the jukebox.  We talked of old times.

It was nice to see him again and to jostle memories.  There are some people we know who were there at the beginning.  When we were just on the cusp of that point in life where we can't blame our mistakes on youth.  That magical time when you have no bills to pay, no familial responsibilities, no job to seek, no reputations to lose.  It was a place where we hopped into a car and drove all night, sometimes with beer, looking for fun and learning the art of friendship.

And then that time is lost forever - where we have to take all the slings and arrows that comes with adulthood.  Eddie was with me at that point, that quick moment in memory, and then you go head over heels into that abyss of life when all the joys and sorrows start to cling fast; the baggage we carry with us to the end.

(If interested, I wrote a previous post about Eddie on January 31, 2012.  It contained a pretty fascinating story about how he found his Dad's wrecker in a junkyard and had the door restored.  Use the side dates to find the post. )