When I was in high school, we did dumb things as other young people have done as well I’m sure. Back then, it wasn’t a slow working mind, but rather too quick decision making, impulse control issues, etc. When I was in school, we didn’t heed any warnings, we just lived.
For example, one new year’s eve in the 1984 we went to see the ball drop in Time Square, but until that fateful night I had only watched the ball drop on television.
My friends Keith, Jordan, and I wanted to get as close as possible to 42nd street and the dropping of the ball. Police barricades however impeded our progress. Along the way Keith and Jordan were drinking peach schnapps, which fortunately for me I had no taste for. Someone had to keep a level head.
When the clock struck twelve, people starting rushing to see the ball, or to get away. Which one I was never sure. All I do know is that people started running fast.
“Quick, get behind the barricade.” I yelled.
Keith listened to me, but Jordan, got swept away with the crowd arms flailing like a person caught up in a tsunami or beach surf. A few minutes later we found Jordan, out of breath, but generally okay.
“Lets head back to Penn Station.” I stated.
“We should walk.” Said Keith. “It's only eight blocks, and it should be more interesting, and we'll never get a cab”
We all agreed with him, but we wouldn’t know how “interesting” until later. After a few blocks I started to talk to Keith when I noticed Keith wasn’t next to us.
“Oh shit, where’s Keith?” I exclaimed.
Jordan and I started running back north to Times Square to see if we could find our friend, and find him we did. Keith was sprawled on his back, arms stretched out like Jesus on the cross. His glasses were no where to be found. A patch of loose skin hang from his chin, and his eyes were glazed over. A small crowd had begun to form around him.
Jordan and I crouched lower, the crowd still with us. I managed to find Keith’s glasses and lens in a nearby puddle.
A man kept saying, “Is he dusted? He looks dusted.”
(Meaning: Is Keith on angel dust? No, just peach schnapps I thought, and that certainly couldn’t do that)
“Some guy is punching random white dudes, and his ring is cutting them up.” stated another witness. I never found out the truth.
While Keith was laying there, a man tried to put his hand in Keith’s pockets. I think to steal his wallet.
“That's my friend. Get off!” I yelled as I punched his hand.
“You know him?” The man responded.
“Lets get him up.” I intoned.
And with that Jordan, Keith, and I shuffled towards Penn Station. Trying to put the memory behind us.
When we arrived at Penn, an acquaintance of ours named David asked,
“Keith, what happened to you?”
“I honestly don’t know.” He replied haltingly.
“What happened?” He asked us later.
We explained how we helped him, and how he probably got punched. After that incident, some of the allure of New Year’s Eve was diminished, and I never went back.
Life Lesson 46: They say that all that glitters isn't gold, because sometimes things are not as perfect as they seem at first glance, but that shouldn’t stop us from trying to experience all that life has to offer. Just treat life like trying peach schnapps, experience it if you like, but do so in moderation. Or in my case not at all, because often life is better when we view it with a clear head, and a chin that has all it’s skin.
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