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5:29 a.m. - 2002-01-10

OLD FRIENDS ARE LIKE USED RUBBERS. WHO NEEDS 'EM?

I got the strangest phone call last night.

It was from my old friend Mike. He has gotten married and has two kids.

Mike and I lost touch several years ago. I don't even remember how long it's been.

Mainly because ... I don't remember Mike.

Talk about your embarrassing moments ... this one should be dipped in gold and set on the mantle.

From what I understand, he worked as a bouncer at one of the clubs I worked at back in the 1980s. Back when I had feathered poofy hair and not an ever-expanding bald spot. He couldn't have worked there long because I only remember one bouncer really well and that was ... well ... I can't remember his name. But I know it wasn't Mike. Something like...well...I just know it wasn't Mike.

But back then, we went through a series of bouncers in this club. The summer of '87 alone we probably had a dozen bouncers come and go. Mainly because they got sick of me playing Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" ad nauseum and had to quit to protect their sanity.

What can I say? It was a popular song at the time and a real crowd pleaser.

So this guy just happened to look me up in the phone book and called me. He's working as a cable TV installer now, married Kim ("who used to come out to the club...YOU REMEMBER HER, RIGHT??" "Oh yeah, Mike...how could I ever forget Kim!")

He had seen my column in the paper and read it a few times and showed it to people saying "I know this guy"! Hey, thanks for the publicity there, Mikie. I wish the sentiment could be reciprocated.

I don't know if you've ever had to go through with this, but it is EXTREMELY tough to reminisce with somebody that you don't know. It's kinda like having sex with a cow. You don't really know what you're doing, you're embarrassed to be doing it, there's no really big reward for doing it and you feel like shit afterwards.

We talked for about 15 minutes before I gave him the lame excuse that the baby needed a bath and I had to go. He said he'd call me sometime and we could all go out together with our kids. I agreed that'd be a good idea. And it probably would be if I knew who he was.

In my defense, I drank a LOT of booze and smoked a LOT of pot back then. I seriously doubt that there was one single night in that seven year period that I worked in bars when I was 100% sober. As much as I think marijuana should be legalized, the shit DOES rob you of your memory. I coulda been roommates with this guy and I probably wouldn't have remembered it if it happened from 1982 on as long as I was the owner of a bong.

It bothers me that the guy didn't really give me any clues to who he was. He told me his last name but that didn't help. And since it's been 11 years since I stepped foot in that bar, I'm sure he's changed to the point that I would barely recognize the guy if I did see him. He didn't bring up any vivid memories like "Remember the time you and I took that girl back to your apartment and had sex with her all at the same time and you accidently french kissed my ass for thirty minutes straight?"

I mean...something like that MIGHTA helped jar my memory a bit.

No such luck.

So a word of warning to you kids out there. If you're thinking about calling up an old friend and reminiscing, have at least ONE STRONG MEMORY that you can relay to them that will help them remember you on hand.

Especially if the old friend was a drug addict.


In other news, Andrew is SOOOOO walking now. He walked the length of the den last night by himself. Of course, it took him several hours to do it because he takes a step, is shocked that he's still standing, takes another, is still shocked, et cetera.

I get the eerie feeling this boy is about to become a handful around the house.

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