One Friend, No Fireworks Needed

June 30, 2022

Disclaimer….. I’m not categorically opposed to fireworks, their beauty, nor the exuberant celebration of Independence Day. However the 4th of July holds a different sentiment for me and I regret that fireworks terrify so many animals. The story within this post is not news to my inner circle, however it’s foremost on my mind this weekend, and my apologies in advance if it is redundant.

It’s Friday morning, 4th of July weekend, and I’m snuggled in on the couch with my warm rice-bag to soothe the demons in my belly, and I’m patiently awaiting the day’s first light. I can hear Joe's peaceful respirations and intermittent snores in the next room as he sleeps the predawn hours away. It’s wonderful to have him here for the holiday weekend.

In just a few short days, crowds will gather along the shoreline and fireworks will light up the night skies over Alsea Bay to celebrate our nation's independence. It’s sure to be a spectacular event with bursts of light reflecting off the water and crowds reacting with their expected “ooooohhhs and aughs.” Joe may decide to stay up Sunday night for the festivities, but this year I have an intentional case of JOMO (joy of missing out). Pretty fancy use of an acronym, don’t you think?

Instead of the impending fireworks, I’ll be thumbing back through the pages of time, back to this weekend some 36 years ago when I returned to Meeker for a few days respite. For the record, there are basically only two times a year when fled-Meekerites return to the mothership and that’s over the 4th of July weekend and for the Meeker Classic Sheepdog Trials just after Labor Day. So given my choice of weekends, the chances were pretty good I might run into a few old friends. My travels to/through Meeker coincided with my transfer from work on Capitol Hill in Washington D.C. to driving west to Tucson, AZ where I was starting work on Congressman Jim Kolbe’s re-election campaign. I was so so looking forward to a few days off, and the slower pace of my sleepy hometown.

I had simple plans for my first night in town — a home cooked meal, catching up with the folks and then early to bed. However Tena, my childhood friend, had other ideas and insisted that I go with her to the bar at the golf course. She was persistent and after relentless pleading, I conceded and reluctantly joined her for an evening out.

We entered the bustling bar where old friends were reuniting. It was loud and boisterous, and Tena immediately (almost awkwardly) said, “Would you look who’s here?” Having no idea whom she was talking about, I blindly followed her through the crowd to the other side of the smokey room. There …. I spotted Joe and a group of well lubricated holiday weekend-goers, whom I quickly learned were Tena’s intended destination. So this is was her ulterior motive in getting me out for the evening?

Joe and I had some history, as did everyone who grew up in Meeker. We were classmates, friends since elementary school, and had a fleeting romance the summer after we’d graduated from high school, but I hadn’t seen him in years. It was only good manners to greet him with a smile and hug. Simple enough right? Well… the brief comfortable embrace was about to change my life forever.

First Joe danced with Tena, then with both of us, and we literally danced the night away. This guy (Joe), this friend, who I had so much history with I believed truly had “happy feet.” The dancing literally may have been the thing that tipped the scales and sealed the deal for me that night. Of course, I still contend there was one significant piece of false representation that weekend. To this day it’s the only blatant deception Joe has ever set forth, yet one I’m not sure is forgivable. The facts are that he held himself out as a dancer, and yes I fell for that falsehood. Hindsight it must have been the beer talking because he’d rather do most anything than dance now. That said, we are living proof that a relationship can sustain and survive much wider discrepancies than an aversion to dancing for over three and a half decades.

(Side note… I love love love to dance so much that I embarrassingly admit to dating a guy in college only because he was 6’ 8” a great dancer and could flip me like I was five feet tall. He had the personality of “a mashed potatoe sandwich” so the relationship didn’t last, but the dancing was fantastic.)

Back to the story on July 4th 1986….. We stayed out way too late after closing down the golf course and dancing ourselves to the point of exhaustion. The conversation that followed was an overdue dialogue that would require hours (and a lifetime) to complete; the floodgates of laughter, tears, stories of days-gone-by and what-ifs opened. The hours disappeared and soon the sun was creeping up over the horizon in the east. Where had this guy been, and why had he been hiding behind a skinny freckled faced middle schooler I’d overlooked and underestimated all these years — and that mustache? Wow!

That weekend we took in several 4th of July activities, but none more memorable than the Dan Seals concert at the fairgrounds. Meeker had the affinity for drawing in some pretty big talent just before they became a big deal, and the Town definitely scored with Dan Seals in 1986. He opened with his hit single “One Friend” which I fLund ironic as I believe I‘d just found my way back to “mine.” in fact that song still remains one of my all-time favorites. We chose it as our wedding song, it’s on my daily inspirational playlist, and I often dance (alone of course) to One Friend in the wee hours of the night when sleep escapes me.

If I could be anywhere this 4th of July weekend, I’d wish to be in Meeker with Joe and the kids, enjoying ribs at Mom’s, and connecting with friends and family. But since that’s not possible, I’m looking forward to a quiet evening on the Central Oregon Coast. We’ll possibly turn on a little Pandora, maybe some Dan Seals. And even though I’m not likely to get a dance out of the deal, I’ll listen with “One Friend,” that I reconnected with in Meeker over the 4th of July weekend so many years ago — no fireworks needed.