my memory loves me

I got a lot of really sweet notes and DMs and comments about my black history piece.

but the most surprising thing was when one of my high school friends wrote this

TP – thank you for posting this. I still remember you not coming inside my house for my graduation party 😞. I’ve told that story many times and it makes me sad. You played it “cool”, of course. You were the coolest person I know!

I had no idea what she was talking about. Why wouldn’t I have come inside her house? We didn’t live close enough for me to walk to or even bike to, so I must have borrowed my moms car to get there.

Had I not been invited in by some uptight dad? So I asked her. And she said

not invited in…you and I hung out on the driveway. I’m glad you didn’t remember it.

How could I not have remembered that?

sure I had been called the n word from time to time but seriously who hasn’t.

but to have an adult tell a high school kid he can’t come inside a pretty girl’s graduation party? you’d think that’d stick.

I was so focused on coming to LA when I was wrapping up school. my head was not in that Midwest world at all.

some of the best things happened that spring before I came here but I didn’t even notice those things either.

I went to prom with a junior who the next year would be the rose queen of roselle. a totally different girl kissed me after we went to the movies. these cheerleaders got me drunk and said the nicest things.

it was all like a dream and maybe I just didn’t let it in because I was laser focused to go West young man. so some racist dad? whatever. I had shit to do.

I had been in that house since I was tiny.

it was such a good childhood. three channels on tv, no internet, no cell phones and somehow I felt like I had everything.

other than permission to party it seems.