Smile & wave

I have a friend I’ve been friends with since Christ was in kindergarten. We became friends out of circumstance more than anything. My mum was friends with his mum and we were forced to play together.

We both have very different views on these early days. I have memories of being terrified of standing near a window while in the same room as him because I was convinced he was going to push me out of it. I was likely convinced of it because he has either a) tried to do it or 2. had threatened me in such a way as to make me believe he would actually do it. I lean towards the latter rather than the former. He would disagree I’m sure.

Anyway, years went on, time worked its magic the way it does and we became teenagers. By this time he and his family had moved away from Vancouver and we started to form a friendship based more on common interest rather than being forced together. We started to write letters back and forth.

Fast forward many more years into adulthood.

People have often asked how we met since most of his friends are from being in the Naval Reserves or Sea Cadets. I am one of the friends that comes out of leftfield. The stories get told, from both our perspectives because they really are quite different.

One part of the story that used to boggle my mind, is when he talks about the letters I used to write him and the subsequent visit I made to see him in Quebec City years ago.

We had been writing letters back and forth for years. He finally ended up living in Quebec City and he said I should come visit him sometime. He didn’t think I would actually take him up on the offer. It was just something to say.

See, the way he tells it, I would write the weirdest letters. Really far out stuff. He thought I was really, really weird. Way out there shit. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. I thought my letters were pretty normal. “Hey. How are you? Life is fine here. School sucks.” kinda stuff. To hear him tell it I was a total wackadoodle.

Based on my letters he was afraid of who was going to be waiting for him at the airport when he picked me up. We hadn’t actually seen each other in 6 years. When he saw me at the airport he was thinking to himself “Please don’t let that be her. Please god. Oh, she’s not with a friend, it can’t be her. Thank you lord! Oh shit, she’s coming over here, shit, she has a friend. It’s her! Oh god what have I done?”

My side of the story is pretty much the same. “Oh god please tell me that’s not him. He’s so… normal. Oh sweet jebus this is going to suck. What the hell have I done? I have to spend three weeks with that square? Say it ain’t so lord!”

We ended up having a great time. It was one of the best vacations I’ve ever had.

As far as the story goes I could totally see where he was coming from when he was picking my friend and I up from the airport. I had a cane covered in googly eyes, raver pants, piercings, and I’m sure to him I looked very odd. My friend didn’t look a whole lot different. I was never able to figure out where he was coming from with the damn letters.

A couple of years ago I finally figured out what the hell he was talking about.

When I was younger I would write down lyrics to songs I liked. When a lyric would jump out at me from a song I liked, I would write it down. What would happen is I would have a page of lyrics I liked, it would look something like this:

Seven lies multiplied by seven multiplied by seven again. Same pattern on the table, same clock on the wall. I’m well aware of how it aches. I'm a victim to the impact of these words. You’ve been running away from what you don’t understand. You can sit around waiting for the phone ring. We need lies to make it though the day. I’ve got ice in my fire.

Only it would be an entire page, and I’m guessing back to back. I would fill up the pages and when one was done I would just stick it in with whatever letter I was sending at the time. I’m sure I have other friends that received letters with pages of lyrics in it.

Mystery solved. I would think I was nuts if I didn’t know the context behind it.

So what does this story have to do with anything other than being a lovely story of a lovely friendship? Well I still create those pages of lyrics. I do it electronically now, but I still do it. At any given time, if I’m listening to music while I’m using my computer I will record bits and pieces of songs I really like.

Almost every title to every entry I’ve posted here is a fraction of a song, and about 80% of the time the song comes from something I was listening to while I was writing the entry. Sometimes I go to the page of lyrics I’ve collected for a title.

And in case you were wondering:

John the Revolator – Depeche Mode
38 Years Old – The Tragically Hip
Song to Say Goodbye – Placebo
Sea Legs – The Shins
Mysterious Ways – U2
End of the Line – Travelling Wilburys
Pills – The Perishers
Sidewalking – The Jesus and Mary Chain