We All Grow Up and Skunk Love

Went to a wedding this weekend. A weekend wedding no one thought would work out. Skeptical? Cynical? Neither. Just didn’t think they were the piece of paper legal kind. I’m glad they did it, though. Now they don’t have to answer to When. Now the other when? question can start – right where the last when? left off.
We all grow up. Instead of lamenting over lost Duran Duran posters we are talking about house hunting and wills and probate. We are worrying about divorces that should have happened years ago and marriages that should be. We discuss full time opportunities and changes of addresses, age differences and interview questions. Someday I might tell you, you were my very first interview. Someday I will tell you, you were my very first hire. I hope I never have a first fire.
Last night I sat on the steps to my apartment in the cooling hours of streetlight dark, a cell phone craddled on my shoulder. Amid cricket songs, distant cars and crackling connection I talked with a friend. A scurrying, hurrying shadow ran over my outstretched feet on its way to deeper darkness. It didn’t stop to acknowledge or even notice me. Once I realized it was a skunk I was left stunned and silenced. For a second I swore halucination…until the inky black eyes stared at me from under kisa’s truck. Chaneling Corwin and Crock Hunter I bade my phone friend goodnight and carefully crept inside. I thought back to when I was seven or eight years old and fell in love with a skunk pelt. I carried it everywhere with me, draped over my shoulder I petted it constantly. Did my nocturnal friend know this? Could he sense that at one time I worshiped his kin? I’ll never know. In the morning he was gone without a trace. I’ll miss him.
I grew up but some things haven’t changed.