Cinnamon Girl

[KB.]

You have to be a part of, "when will I see you again"; it is what makes us tick. There is always some lonely fool who thinks that it is secondary to career, or figuring out who they are. Tell them to keep that poison away from you. It doesn't have to be physical, doesn't have to be romantic, and just needs to be an attraction more substantial than a sideways glance. Could be a crush, those are always great. Might be someone you just like to talk with. It has to be someone you could spend a lazy Sunday afternoon sharing a hammock with. Maybe you know just enough or ignore just enough to make that thought a little more concrete than it should be. That’s okay, it's how it works. Gives you something to warm you up on the cold days. Maybe someone who through their interaction with you makes you want to be a better person, or to take better care of yourself. Maybe it's a dozen different people who all meld into one big chunk of lovely goodness. A man needs a maid. Don't get hostile, there’s a deeper meaning to that song from Neil Young than him just wanting someone to make his bed and cook his supper. When will I see you again? That’s the meat of it right there. You've had that person. The one you make time for, you get up early or stay out too late to see again. The one you say a little prayer for hoping they will still be there tomorrow for you to see again. If you don't have one, please get to looking. It's kind of like a scavenger hunt, finding that Easter egg with the two quarters in it instead of some melted marsh mellow goo in the shape of a baby duck. Peeps suck.



Sometimes, that person is so far away they may as well live on Jupiter, other times they live next door. They work at your favorite bar. All the time, you want to be a part of it. It is the person you say good night to, and not good bye. You talk about them a little too much on days when you feel good. When you hear the Isley Brothers singing, "It's Your Thang", you wonder who they sock it too. I had a crush on a girl in the third grade, which was 22 years ago; she wore charm bracelets, plastic ones. They had little charms of tennis rackets, cars, and flowers. Guess what, I still got it, the crush, it is orange flavored. Don't even know what she looks like now, doesn't matter. She introduced me to Led Zeppelin, in the form of a tribute album with Sheryl Crow singing Dyer Maker. I bought the boxed set. I never told her I had it, the crush that is, if I ever see her again, maybe on the twentieth reunion, which is eight years away, I'll tell her. When I listen to Springsteen sing "Glory Days" and when he talks about the girl that turned all the boys’ heads, I think about her.



A man needs a maid. Someone to live close by. Help out a little bit when he needs it.



I've got a crush right now, but to be fair I was the object of my crushes crush first. It was secret, but she told me. She has a lot more guts than me apparently, didn't take her 22 years to mention it to someone. It works for both of us. She gets an unedited pre-screening to my tired head, and I get to talk a lot, I like to talk, been told I'm long winded even. I get to listen a lot as well, which is glorious. I like to listen. She is quite the conversationalist. She reads these train wrecks I write down. Then I get to explain them a little more. She makes me laugh. She called me a beautiful disaster, not the first time someone has said that, called me a loudmouth too, not the first for that either. Can't wait to see her again.

KB



"There is no past that we can bring back by longing for it. There is only an eternally new now that builds and creates itself out of the best as the past withdraws."

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe