Play tension. Head on a swivel, know what eye mean? I in the back of your head is behind us now, that's so0Ooo 20th century. With all the tech and media at our finer tips, dick canaries and sir engines, choose wisely—words.
I've had two real-life people I thought would be there til the end trip out on me over nothing in recent years. One had been a part of my life for 20 years, saw me through my divorce—puking, couldn't sleep or eat, horrible, but Hopper had my back. Held my hand like a good brother.
The other is Philip, more than 40 years we were tight—paternal bond. Met him on the football field; junior all-American, we were seven years old that day.
Both are over a misunderstanding, too, I think. Or at least I'm pretty sure. I've been on radio silence with both now going on seven years for Hop and four with Phil.
Virtual strangers trip out on me over nothing more often than not if you can believe that, people I've never even met. I chalk that up to less misunderstanding and more they can't take a #joke. Unfollow - ignore - smash every button They can find like a toddler in a whack-a-mole tournament.
Hopper and Philip, however, man, those hurt. Lost any friends you thought would be around forever? Not a day goes by I don't think about those guys and wish them the best. I hope they're well. I hear Philip's in Idaho now, he and his daughter share the same birthday, how cool is that?! No idea where Hopper is or if he's even alive.
We were supposed to meet up at a football game back in 2017; Hopper and his wife, Ms. C, along with myself and Pura. Broncos vs Redskins. I don't think they're called Redskins anymore but that's who they were back then.
2017 was an eventful year, glad it's over. That weekend, the football game one, was particularly challenging.
My leg went out for the last time that year. My Union wouldn't let me go back to work—liability. I was in and out of medical facilities and attorney's offices, hunting down past medical documents from Los Angeles to DC, it was stressful. I was looking forward to that football game, something he and I had done several times previously—meet up for a Broncos game in whatever state they were playing. Had plane tickets and the room booked months in advance.
We were living on the road at the time. Pura and I were shacked up in an RV - traveling state to state - chasing all the overtime jobs. Leg went out - couldn't work - trying to support us with medical professionals telling me my career's over.
I was 41.
No idea what to do. Never been there before. Saying goodbye to everything I knew was a mind fuck. No one to ask. Me and Pura were lost, didn't plan for that, how can you? But, at least there was the football game. We were looking forward to it.
Hadn't seen Hopper since the previous year when we met in Denver to watch the Broncos play the Chiefs. We'd talk about it weekly. With each win or loss the Broncos tallied on Sunday, we built a little more hype in anticipation of our game.
The week before that game, it was Monday, the Monday before that Sunday but, really, Saturday, our plane departed from San Francisco Saturday morning. On Monday before that Saturday, the RV park we were set up at, suffered extensive storm damage. I remember thinking we were going to float off into the Pacific. By the time the rain stopped, about 1/3 of the RV park was under water—no energy and plenty of sewage overflow.
All kinds of bad.
We pulled out as soon as we could. Unhooking, unplugging, unleveling, packing and unpacking, it's not a simple task. Takes a couple days. Meanwhile, Pura's calling all over the place trying to secure a spot. We were in California, the Bay Area, trying to secure an RV spot in the Bay Area without a reservation is like finding a loaded semi truck without Chinese merch.
A spot was opening up in Halfmoon Bay—coastal campground west of The City. It wouldn't be available until Saturday—the day of our departure.
We parked the RV in the parking lot of a 24 Hour Fitness gym, they've since gone belly up due to Covid. We'd stay there, use the gyms facility's, make the best of it for a couple days but, all things considered, the football game was no longer an option.
I ended up eating those tickets. No big deal, can't even remember what they cost now. It sucked, I remember that.
I dreaded breaking the news to Hopper, made me ill. We'd attended a handful of games together previously, this one was out of my hands.
Hasn't spoken to me since.
And Philip! Man!! That one's even lamer, the worst, check this out—Bible verse I sent him back in 2020. Group message, him and like three other people. I read that verse as concrete evidence Covid is rigged. Still do. I dig that about the Bible—open for interpretation.
Anyhoo, he calls me like an hour later, I'm on the treadmill, completely lost his shit.
Too excited, could hardly articulate his words, flippin out on me about how dare I message him that early in the morning, yata yata, he wakes up early. If it ain't Gavin Newsome or football don't bother him and whatever else he said.
:click:
He hung up on me - earbuds turned back on - continue treadmill goes me. Later that evening he called me.
He was apologetic. Said he overreacted, didn't get much sleep, work has him stressed out and whatever else but I've known that dude since 1983, fuck him! His panties were in a wad over who knows what and that Bible verse threw him over the edge. Rather than ignore it or rebuke me with scientific evidence supporting Covid, he flipped out and then called me to save face.
Don't trip, I took you off the group message.
I did—simple fix, I thought. No big deal.
He called me a :cough: 'female dog.' I hate that word.
You don't have be a 'female dog' about it.
Alright, so here comes the misunderstanding part which Pura just brought to my attention, by the way, a couple weeks ago, nearly four years later. Hence the idea for this article. I said:
I got enough people in my life who treat me like family.
Hear me out. When Pura asked me what the deal is with he and I and I told her that, she said "you know what that sounds like, right?"
I did not..
What I meant by that was, the people who share my DNA have caused me more pain than good and I'm over it like discord. When I said that I meant maternal, not chosen family like him.
I think now since Pura brought it to my attention, he misunderstood me. That's unfortunate. I've since left him messages, even voicemails which is something I rarely do if EVER and still send emails on his birthday.
:crickets:
Maybe it's just me. I am the common denominator here. Has anyone you thought was ride or die dismissed you eternally over a misunderstanding?
One foot in front of the other, I guess. Keep on keepin on or however it goes. It's tough not to look back every once in a while. Even tougher than that is getting past it when you're not really sure what happened.
