Thursday, July 07, 2005

Stacy Vacation 2005: Day 7-9: Stacy & Ted's Excellent Adventure

My best friend since the creation of mankind is my Italian paisano Teodoro.

Or for those of you lacking the ability to pronounce that many "o's" in that short a span of time, "Ted" will do.

I met Ted in the fall of 1990 at the fashionable Cal State Long Beach dorm building known as "Q".

"Q" of course was the only reason James Bond had any cool gadgets as he banged women around the world, so you can see my excitement in living in a building represented by this letter of the alphabet.

But I digress, or regress, depending on the childhood memory.

The first time I met Ted, he stepped into the entrance of my dorm room and asked if I wanted to grab lunch at the dining hall.

He was dressed in an outfit Ted would become famous for in the dorms: Buffalo Bills hat turned rebelliously backwards, T-shirt, shorts and his hair tied back into a ponytail as if to nonverbally tell the ladies, "Goddamnit, I'm the man."

I thought he resembled a pseudo hippie.

As fate would have it, near the end of our first year together in neighboring dorm rooms, his roommate, and mine, would both decide to drop out of this educational institution.

The moment I learned of this sad news, I phoned Ted and suggested we share a dorm room.

That was one of the few decisions in my life that I've been thankful occured.

We had so much fun in that corner room in the building of "Q".

And I believe I received the better of this arrangement because Ted is a handsome guy.

Goddamn Italian blood.

Women were always...wait, let me retype that...ALWAYS hanging out in our room. And they were always nice to me, even when Ted wasn't around, because they figured...be nice to the dorky, not quite as attractive roommate, and maybe Ted will notice me.

But Ted was no male slut. He was rather picky when it came to women.

Thankfully that was the case, because if Ted had been a lesser man, I would have had to sleep on the hallway floor more often than not.

The reason for the preceding long winded introduction to my good friend Ted??

To explain how our friendship has endured the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and kept us in contact for the last fifteen years.

A friend like this only comes along once in a lifetime and I won the friendship lottery.

We spent the three days during his visit playing frisbee, sunning by the pool and eating whatever food we desired.

As luck would have it, our mid-30's physique couldn't handle the rigors of an hour or so tossing a 200 gram frisbee through the air and running to catch it.

It's four days later and I'm still sore.

Sigh.

Ted's married to his lovely bride now and teaches full time, so I don't see him as much or as often as I would like.

But that's life's fault, not his.

I never had a brother, and always wanted one when I was growing up.

Some things are worth the wait...

1 comment:

  1. You know I stay in touch with exactly no one... except you, paisano. While some may argue that says something scary about me, I think it says more about you and just who you are. I always thought that the term "best friend" was a silly one... overused, underemotional, a term that we teachers call a "dead word." And yet, I have for some time considered you my best friend. Thanks... a lot.

    For your information, I actually had to massage my calf muscle and wear an Ace Bandage for two days after, and I'm not even on dialysis! Too damn much of the all-American game... frisbee!

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