Friday

Usually Mondays are the melancholy days and Thursdays are for bittersweet memories, and Fridays are for celebrating and letting your hair down. But as I find myself today at forty and no hair to let down, I find that my thoughts to be hangovers from the week; or more accurately, thoughts and leftovers of what are aspects of my life now, to speak in terms of analogy. And I know that Saturday brings the Devil to pay, but Sunday brings redemption; but I'm not certain if I'm ready to settle my tab or not. As I reflect on things and consider my own words as I write, I realize that I learned everything that I need to know from all of my Friday experiences as a wild-eyed, teenage boy.

I learned how to budget $12 and turn it into a pretty full evening... and I realized how many hours a fry-cook has to turn in to produce $12, after taxes, a new concept to a sixteen year old...I learned how to cut corners during the week by eating lunch at home and pocketing the savings. I understood that by sacrificing my desire for a McDonald's cheeseburger during the week was the difference between having Bud Lite or Milwaukee's Best come Friday night. That lesson seems lost to many of us today, in our "I want it all and I want it now" society...

I learned to appreciate the little things in life, like sharing a pack of cigarettes and conversations, with a couple of close friends...while sitting on the hood of the car at the drive-in, or out on a country road...and that no amount of money can buy that time back. And that memories are truly priceless, both good and bad.

My taste in music developed from blaring car speakers and cassette tapes with spiffy fold-outs. And growing up in the 80's was a great time for music, I type as my computer is blasting some feel-good Friday music. And like my car back then, I have more watts on my computer than I need now...play it loud!

I did learn some basic mechanic skills, as we mostly drove lemons back then. But they were our lemons and we could care less if they were pretty or not; if we could patch them together, we would pool our funds to buy enough gas to last us until midnight.

We learned to be very resourceful in many ways, not just financially. At times it took some very clever means for a sixteen year old to get his hands on enough beer for five or six guys...maybe even more creative at times than resourceful. But we rarely did without whatever we set our minds out to achieve or gain.

And we learned not to tattle-tell on whoever bought us booze. I learned that there is a code in life and that even if you were up to "no-good" that you could still have some honor, a lesson from Fridays past that I still try to remember today...and we could all learn a little something about honor today.

And you knew who your friends were. And you knew that you would charge hell with a water pistol to protect them. And you always knew that they were behind you with the same vigor as well. If a fight broke out, you knew who had your back and whose back you watched...no more, no less. I am afraid that as adults we learn to back stab and rationalize. Your friend was your friend back then. Now there is no honor among thieves; our relationships are more complex politics now. Thank God we didn't have the intellect to understand that then. We just knew who we liked and knew that to have a friend you had to be a friend. We never were friends for what we could get, but by what we mutually gave.

We learned a lot of first aid on Friday nights, as the consumption of the hard-earned beer lead to more than a few scuffs and scrapes. And we learned how to hide such accidents. We never considered lawsuits or litigation's. You drank, you fell, you bled, you healed. Case closed.

I still find that Friday, quitting time is the best time of the week. Whether it's school or work, I still look forward to Friday afternoon...

...so many lessons learned. So many Fridays celebrated. And while I am not one to think that the good ole days are always better;and I realize that I am looking back on my teenage Fridays with carefully selected memories, I do find myself missing my old "hoop tie", $12 cash in my pocket, and plans for a grand and glorious evening full of so much promise, as were our lives back then.

I don't condone or promote anything we did and I don't feel the need to defend anything either. I am simply considering Friday as I sit and read the news and compare then to now. I miss my long, curly hair and my checkered Vans. I miss the adventure and the risks. I miss playing Def Leppard and Whitesnake so loud that it rattles the neighbors windows. I miss the mischief and the giddy feeling of seeing whatever girl of the week drive by in a convertible. But the biggest thing that I miss are my friends.

I learned that by going through all of these, and many more, experiences together, we formed relationships; and we nurtured these relationships with more experiences, and we fromed the ties that bind with our hearts.

But the greatest lesson that I have learned is that camaraderie, friendship, resourcefulness, creativity, courage, and honor cannot be bought. Not even for $12 .