The Illness of Sentimentality

Sometimes I think I have some kind of rather harmless mental illness. The latest version of this malady is that I have this desire to run around with my old, childhood pal, Paul Green. That may not sound weird, it might sound even kind of quaint, but hold on, I’m just getting started.

My family moved from one neighborhood to another when I was 7 years old in 1958. One of the first kids I met in the new neighborhood was Paul Green, an urchin I may have mentioned before in some blog entry. We almost immediately became best buddies, Green and I. Together we rode our bicycles hither and yon. One day we would climb to the top of a sycamore tree and the next day we would explore the dark depths of the city’s rain sewer system. Usually I would call him simply “Green”, but when we were really having a high ol’ time I would gleefully label him “Greenie-boy”. For about five years Green and I were inseparable.

Eventually cracks began to surface in our friendship. When we were about 13 or 14 years old things began to change. Although I could not identify it at the time, the simple fact was; Green was emotionally maturing faster than I was. It seemed like overnight Green lost interest in bean-shooters and slingshots. He no longer wanted to play “army”. Cap guns no longer interested him. It seemed like in a matter of just weeks my pal was talking favorably about girls. Soon thereafter he began to care about how he dressed.

Eventually Green started saying rather rude things to me when I would suggest some boyish activity such as playing with his set of toy Calvary men on his basement floor. It wasn’t long before he was hanging around a different set of friends, many of whom openly smoked cigarettes. By the time we began high school we had gone our separate directions. Still, the demise of our friendship did not change the fun we once had.  

Now, many years later, I have this strange desire to do many of those boyhood things again. In fact, I have this strange desire to do those things again with Paul Green. Unfortunately this can never happen. It is impossible. You see, I do not want to participate in long-ago activities with today’s 62 year-old Paul Green. In fact, that sounds kind of depressing. No, instead I have a desire to engage in those bygone pursuits with the 9 year-old Greenie-boy. 

There is no cure for this form of illness. About all that can be done is accept it, which means reflecting on that past era and when a pleasant memory comes to mind, give it a smile. Heck, who knows, maybe right this very moment Greenie-boy is thinking back on his boyhood as he is writing into his blog. If he is, I hope he’s smiling. Some illnesses really aren't so bad.