Wednesday, August 12, 2009

An open letter to the internet.

I am (was?) an Army Brat, so I never lived anywhere for more than five years until adulthood (that's how the Army used to be). So, you can imagine that I have no friends from my early youth in my life now - or even high school for that matter. Those old friends and acquaintances were always a mystery to me. Then came you, internet.

Sure, I love writing my blog, reading my web friend's blogs, Tweeting, etc, but I enjoy myths, and you, internet, destroyed the great myth of my childhood. For that, I hate you, internet.

Somewhere between first and fourth grade two events occurred with one of two kids I remember by name. One was a kid who always wore Budweiser t-shirts, had long hair, and was the fat kid (there was only one per school in the '70s). He was a bit of a dirty little trailer trash kid, but nice enough. We were not friends, but his name has a way of sticking with you. Possible because his first name is the name of a rock band. Lets call him "Foghat" for now.

Somewhere along the way we had a drug education class, and the teacher showed us a bong. Foghat declared, "that's not for drugs. We have those in our house and my uncle says they are for root beer." On another occasion we were doing pictures for parent's night, or some such event. Foghat drew a truck with big red letters on the side reading "BEER." As you can imagine, the teacher was not impressed. She decided to have our little Martin Prince help him change it to "BEEF." Foghat was not impressed, but I am sure the teacher's half-assed explanation persuaded him.

So, for years I have described these events (numerous times to @tas33). The other day, whilst on Twitter, I see Foghat's last name. What, could it be? No. Well, it was not, but then I thought, but I have Facebook... Maybe...

That's when I saw it. Little Foghat, in the appropriate town, now fully grown... holding a bible, and apparently preaching to/at someone(s).

You know, internet, without you I would have never found this out. Foghat would still be "the root beer bong kid" - now he's a preacher, a husband, a father... still in that shitty Army town I left him in... I did not need to know this. You did me wrong internet. You did me wrong.

Then again, maybe it is all my fault. Deep down I must have wanted more for Foghat than what I left him with. I at least imagined he had/could use a computer. Maybe my curiosity mixed with Karma is to blame? Maybe all the friends I have made (some even famous) on the internet demands tribute?

Oh. Internet. I am sorry. I can't stay mad at you. I'd delete it all, but Blogger autosaves, so you've received this already. Friends?



Shon Richards said...

Oh my, that is so true. Facebook has revealed to me all sorts of weird endings for the people I had tried my best to forget in high school.

Root beer bong is going to stick with me lol.

Tenebrous Kate said...

I laughed, I cried, I put another checkmark in my "Reasons I Don't Have Facebook" column. Because somewhere, *I* am someone's Foghat, except they'd look at my photos and think "gee, it's kind of sad that she hasn't changed much in the past [mumblemumble] years...!" I'd just hope they recognize that my clothes, hair and makeup are at least a *little* better than they used to be ;)

Darius Whiteplume said...

@Shon - That is one-hundred-percent true story, though there are thirty-plus years between the act and the retelling. I can still see the Beer/Beef picture in my mind :-)

@TK - When asked if I was going to "friend" the adult Foghat I responded with a quick, "hell no!" I already have one born-again person from my past inter-stalking me :-) BTW I'd kill to see a pic of you from first grade (not in a pervy way, of course). How many tattoos did you have then? :-D

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