Day 2

My wife was just showing me some pictures from our family day at the beach. Most of the pics were of our 1 year old; Jackson, and I commented that I didn’t see me in any photos.

She says, “Well, I have some of you, but you’re not going to like them.”

Damn, she was right! I had been smiling as I paged through, seeing the 3 boys playing in the Malibu sand, but moments to treasure turned into profound displeasure. This clown had a big ole frown.

I wouldn’t be surprised if a kid put a harpoon in me. It was that bad. Sitting in a beach chair, there I was with man boobs (moobs) so pronounced it shaded an area between belly and breasts, causing a large white area resembling an alabaster bra, to contrast the rest of my freshly sunburned body. Apparently my chest can be used as a protective roof.

I put on some pounds. You can now spot me on Google Earth. I am out of denial now. Even my wife, who is the kindest and most gentle person I have ever met said, “Wow Craig, you sure can put on pounds fast.”

I think part of this sudden protrusion has to do with my recent sugar cravings. I’ve had them in the past, but this is to a whole new level. I went to a local candy/soda store called Rocket Fizz and went through it as if someone told me I had won a shopping spree.

I don’t want to examine this too deep, but something is clicking in me that wants to be nostalgic, to go back to fond memories of childhood, and sweet treats are some of the greatest memories I have.

Rocket Fizz takes me back to Gever’s Pharmacy or Buckley’s General Store, where me and my neighborhood buddies would spend all the money we made shoveling snow or helping ladies with their groceries on penny candy, which eventually went to 6 cents, traumatizing a kid on a fixed income. I wanted to organize a protest of Mr. Gever for raising his prices, and I actually believed my friends and me could sting his wallet enough to bring down the cost of Good N Plenty to a reasonable sum. Our boycott probably cost him around a buck fifty a week. No idea how he made it through the winter.

So, now that I don’t have the same financial concerns as a child, I filled bags with taffies, gummies and cherry flavored chewables. Then, I capped it all off with downing a Birch Beer soda, acting as if I was a crack addict and had found my long lost dealer. With every bite or gulp, I thought of certain times hanging with guys who are still my friends today, and how we didn’t have a care or cavity in the world.

I think I’d better find some alternative methods of strolling down memory lane.

Anyone know where I can get a Pogo Stick?