The More Things Change...

I saw an old friend, MCool, this weekend. I haven't seen him in almost three years. 

With some people, no matter how long you've been apart, you just fall back together like time and distance don't really matter. Some people require a period of adjustment before you remember the patterns of your friendship, how they relate to you and how you relate to them. Don't underestimate the latter. 

MCool and I were talking about weight lifting, he's been really into because of a contest he's doing with his friends. 

Apparently, I've been doing it wrong. He wouldn't really pin down what I was doing wrong, but suffice it to say, I was definitely doing it wrong. 

I have to admit, this initially rubbed me the wrong way. 

I mean, WTF!?! Who is he to tell me I'm not lifting correctly? Seriously, we haven't see each other in three years and one of the first things he does is to tell me what I'm doing wrong!

Then I remembered. I'm talking to MCool, not a normal person.

I think he was just nostalgic for the very first time we met. 

We met in high school, both of us were on the track team. I was a sophomore and he was a junior (although it was his first year in track, due to playing baseball for two years), and I was teaching the freshman girls to use the blocks. 

Ready. Set. Go.

Ready. Set. Go.

MCool walked up behind me and his first words to me were exactly this, "You're doing that wrong." In his (not so humble) opinion, I was holding the girls in their blocks too long before I said "Go."

... Aaaand just for the record, I was not doing it wrong. There is no correct amount of time to hold them in their blocks. 

I remembered this story of our first meeting, and suddenly I wasn't annoyed anymore. It was like hitting the valve on a steam cooker. The steam was released and along with it any bad feelings. All that was left was love and affection for MCool. That crazy kid hasn't changed at all. 

He's the boy who used to be too lazy to walk across the dorm to my room, so we would both watch the Simpson's over the phone together.

He's the boy who used to come over to my apartment every Tuesday to help me with my math homework and watch Buffy: The Vampire Slayer with me. 

He's the boy who used to go out for walks with me in the wee hours of the morning when I would get restless because he didn't think I should be wandering around by myself.

Sometimes it takes awhile to get the memories flowing, but then I remembered: my boy's got some excellent qualities, even if he (erroneously) believes that I do lots of stuff wrong.