10.15.2004
Ode to Marnie & Jen
In college, my friends Marnie and Jen helped me through some pretty emotional times. I’d be sulking in my room, two verses away from a grand collapse to a Harry Connick Jr. cassette and I’d get a phone call. They would stop by, pick me up off the floor, and give me a good dose of “you don’t need this crap”. And they knew exactly how to do it. A cutesy approach would never have worked. Instead of applying sugar to the already sticky mess, they’d put on their game faces and whisk me off to do some serious socializing. I’d find myself in front of a bowl of peanuts, a bottle of Rolling Rock, and a game of Euchre. In one deep breath, I’d be laughing, joking, and forgetting all about my Connick crisis.
Ten years later I still have days that find me on the floor, sulking, contemplating a Nick Drake CD. But then I think about Marnie and Jen, wrapped in their scarves and jackets, ordering me to my feet for some beer and Euchre and suddenly I'm taking a deep breath, putting everything into perspective, and placing my happy feet back on the floor.
Ten years later I still have days that find me on the floor, sulking, contemplating a Nick Drake CD. But then I think about Marnie and Jen, wrapped in their scarves and jackets, ordering me to my feet for some beer and Euchre and suddenly I'm taking a deep breath, putting everything into perspective, and placing my happy feet back on the floor.
