Subj: Rainy day reflections (past story)
Date: 7/26/00

Rainy Day Reflections (originally sent to Peter, Miled, Larry B. and not to be confused with Peter, Paul, and Mary; the singing group) Although this letter commented on this group of individuals. I have fond memories of all club members.

Warning! Have one of the three beverages in hand: a) Alcohol, so this E-mail will seem funny or tolerable. b) Coffee, so that you can stay awake and not injure yourself when your head hits the keyboard. c) Soda/water, so that you can justify not finishing the E-mail, because you had to go to the bathroom, the power failed while you were gone, and the message was lost :-(

I'm sitting in my mother's kitchen, blankly staring out the window. It is a rainy day in Poland, Maine and my mind, in it's quirky way, starts to ponder some of the great mysteries in life, like; "If I build a new boomerang, will I be able to throw the old one away before my arm gives out; or if a man speaks and a woman isn't there to hear him, is he still wrong." Such great mysteries have now succumbed to reflections of my life. For here is where I grew up. Partial images fill my mind in a "collage" (word I picked up from the NSX net) of my youth. As I look out the window I see the front lawn that has played host to some off the following: Croquet lawn, baseball field, corral for the pony, ice skating rink, and motorcycle track. My scan turns left to see the garage that we used for a backstop during baseball, the wire cages over the windows to protect the glass (Dad got tired of replacing windows and telling us not to play there was a loosing battle), the roof that we threw balls on to so we could play catch by ourselves. Further left reveals the dirt driveway that I use to cut donuts in with my motorcycle, (got hell every time, but it was worth it) the ramps I built to jump my bicycle, motorcycle, and snowmobile. Yes, there isn't a square inch of property that I can see without a flood of vivid memories filled with images and voices cascading into my mind. Even the sky could not escape my wrath. I filled that with paper airplanes, balsa airplanes, boomerangs, rockets, gas powered model airplanes. Heck, at 17, I use to fly over the house and do stalls with the Cessna 150 just to scare Mom. So before I start pulling out the home movie screen, I'll move on.
The reason of my visit, is of course, Mother's Day. I fear that not to many Mother's days down the road, there will be no reason to return to my birthplace, so I'm taking in as many as I can. Mom, who will be 80 this year, is failing physically and emotionally. Since Dad died of cancer in 88, she has not had the desire to carry on. My trips to Maine bring her great joy, but almost as much sorrow when I leave. She will not relocate to PA or to CA where my sister lives. To try to get her to have fun and interact with old friends and neighbors is next to impossible. It seems that to carry on with her life would be like a betrayal of Dad's existence. My parents have instilled many good values in me (the ones you don't like I picked up on my own) and I try to emulate them, except I wish not to grow old in mind and spirit. Although having a nice warm, well worn, groove in life can be comforting. It can also be your demise. The older one gets, there is a tendency not to try new things. This is where you guys come in. Peter is an old man (snicker) who from what I learned, has been very conservative with his adult life. When most people his age (snicker again, oh will I pay for this later) would be slowing down his enthusiasm is taking off. It is like he has acquired a second wind. For Peter and I, our NSXs have spring boarded our lives. They have been more than vehicles of transportation, they have been vehicles to transport us to new interests and friends. I have nicked named Peter, "the Hun." This is for his exuberance in attacking his performance driving skill. He is also being very active in organizing events. He is very inspirational to me and it makes me want to do more in my life. Peter is currently trying to pawn me off to a new NSX family member. Seems every time I come to visit Peter I cost him future money. It's not done intentionally, I've been kinda like a grandparent coming to visit the kids. They do and say things without having to pay the consequences of their actions. Having been single for a long time, I've forgotten how the husband/wife relationship works. I must remember to put my mind in gear before putting my mouth into motion. Not for Peter's benefit, but for mine. Peter is not one to get mad.............he will get even! (and with a smile). For once I get in a relationship, Peter will be ever helpful in returning all the joys I have l have bestowed on him. Seriously, I could not have a better friend than Peter. He and Sylvia have given me so much more than I have given them.
Miled, Ah Miled.
I haven't had the opportunity for much interaction with Miled, so I don't have many impressions, but what I do have makes me smile. For some reason my E-mails seem to tickle his funny bone. Yes, sometimes I think I write clever letters, other times it's just the way I express myself (not meant to be funny). Either way, it cracks him up. It's like, "what the hell did I say that was so funny?" Miled, sensing this, will sometimes list the passages that he found funny (some I swear he has been sniffing Nitrous). I enjoy making people laugh, but making Miled laugh is as hard as shooting fish in a barrel. The problem is, it "eggs" me on to say other things, which the rest of you will have to pay for. So don't blame me, blame Miled. :-))) I find Miled to be very particular about unrequested water hitting his car. The first time I remember Miled (although I didn't know who he was at the time) was at the airport (Banzai). All the NSXs were in a nice row except..........well you know who. It was like, what the hell, is he afraid all these cruddy other cars might make his look bad? The next memorable event was our 4 car get together and the water puddle. You'd a thought he was evading land mines! After we got to the parking lot (In my usual cynical way), I was thinking about taking drinking water from my bottle, and making 4 puddles (in front of each wheel) and say, "OK Miled, lets see you get out of this one?!" That may come later Miled so be prepared. Of course a raised foot in the kick position aimed at my door will inspire me to sop up the water and lay my shirt down on the damp spots so he can back out unscathed (Curses, Miled wins again). He states that getting his NSX wet isn't as traumatic as it appears, Yet, he had to leave mysteriously early therefor missing the possible rainy "River Run." Hmmmmm, sounds suspicious to me ;-) Well I better back off on the water jokes before my face goes from this :-) to this ;_(
Seriously, I can't wait till Melid comes down to visit, if we aren't laughing our asses off and teaching each other different dialects while working on his car, then I did something seriously wrong. I think he and I will become good friends. Now for Larry B.
Larry B is the mechanical one of our group (I think Peter has been warning him not to make direct eye contact with me). I have been using his name in E-mails to Dali, and I think Mark now has us confused. So far are interaction has been more on the professional polite plane. For me I hope that changes. I hope you are not finding me to abrasive, if so, please let me know. (be quiet Peter) I think I'm still to new to him and we haven't gotten a chance to know each other, or......Peter has been telling him not to make direct eye contact with me. :-)
So what's the point to this whole letter?
First: Mom was taking an afternoon nap and as the lovely (and quotable) Sylvia once said, "I'm bored!"
Second: Just to let you guys know I'm honored to be your friend ("where did he get that idea?, I told you not to make eye contact") and that new friends and new interests are the spice of life.
Third: If you made it through the whole letter, send a self addressed stamped envelope, and I'll mail you $5. You certainly earned it.(applies only to addressee and does not include friends, relatives, and fictional characters).

See you all soon, Larry G.