My Friend Scott

I was dam glad to meet him.

That’s the first thing I ever said to Scott.It was sophomore year in high school, study hall, I was the last M he was the first N, so I sat in front of him.He was the new kid in town, and no one knew anything about him.

He was different and mysterious with his parachute pants, Men at Work muscle shirt and finger-less gloves. He seemed a lone. I hadn’t seen him talking to anyone.

So one day, at the start of study hall, I spun around in my seat, stuck out my hand and said.“Tim Montondo, dam glad to meet you” (line stolen from Animal House)

He shook my hand, and said, “Scott Norton”And he looked at me like he was thinking, how did I end up sitting behind this goof.

Not sure what else we said, but seeing how we sat next to each other, after a while we became friends.And over time, he became one of my best friends.

What can I say about my friend Scott? There are thousands of stories I could tell.

I could tell you about how he decided to woo one of the most beautiful and popular upper class-men young ladies in our school. A 6 foot tall blonde knock out, he gave her flowers and love notes and confessions of his love. It didn’t matter to Scott that she had a HUGE boyfriend. I’m still not sure how he got through that without getting pummeled, I guess he was so sweat about it, she protected him, even if she didn’t return his love.

Side note, although 6 foot blonde and HUGE boyfriend did get married, it didn’t last. And today she lives off the grid and teaches workshops about composting toilets. I wonder if she thinks back about Scott and wonders “What if?”

I could tell you about amazing poker games at his parents’ house, and the garage band that we started at one of them.Lots of high school kids have garage bands, but ours wrote our own songs, had multiple albums, with liner notes, and over the course of a summer we had a world tour….In his dad’s drive way. There is even rumors there was a book written about us.The only thing we didn’t have was instruments or anything like musical talent. But hand us some garden tools and brooms, and with Scott as our lead singer, we were unstoppable.

I could tell you about the time there was a murder in Williamson, and the suspect was on the loose.Scott decided that night it would be a good time to speed past the suspects house, while it was being watched by police…in a car that matched the suspects….with his light off. If it wasn’t for physics and a couple apple trees, no telling how that police chase would have gone.

I could tell you, that my daughter Rachel, if she had been a boy, was going to be Andrew Scott, after Scott. And when we found out she was going to be a girl, we had to scramble for a name. We decided on Rachel, but the middle name was up for debate.I almost had my wife convinced to stick with Scott. I thought that would have been pretty cool, but I was voted down, 1 to 1.

But I did have a backup plan tied to Scott that still could pay honor to my friend. Beth, a popular Kiss song sung by Peter Kris (who Scott was known to dress as for Halloween) and also for a real or possibly make believe girl friend from Scott’s past, Beth Bastian. That’s how we ended up with Rachel Beth.

I could tell you how we were more than just friends, we were more like brothers. We had our fights and disagreements, but you just knew, that if there was ever a problem or trouble, Scott would have your back. And even when we lived on opposite sides of the country, whenever we got together, it was the same as it used to me.

The last time I saw Scott was Thanksgiving a couple years ago.It was just like old times. Picking on each other, sharing stories.When my daughter walked in the room to say hello, Scott greeted her by saying.“Wow, you are freakishly tall”

For a moment, my heart stopped. I love cracking on people more than most, but I also know how fragile a teen age girl can be. Would Rachel be hurt, would she burst into tears and run away?

All that flashed through my mind for a moment, and then my sweet little girl, looked at Scott and said

“And you’ve got big ears”

I’ve never been more proud. We all laughed, as Scott pretended to be hurt, but he couldn’t hide the pride he felt too.

He was a great friend.

I was dam glad to meet him.

It’s cooler at the lake.

If you live in Western NY, or Rochester, or Wayne county, or Pultneyville, where I happened to grow up, you have heard that thousands of times. You’ve heard it from the local weather persons. “Sunny and 75 down town, it’s cooler at the lake” You’ve heard it from your buddy with a boat. “If you come fishing tomorrow, don’t forget a jacket, it’s cooler at the lake” You’ve heard it at the grocery store, when you can tell the people from Pultneyville because they have on their winter coats. “Why are you all bundled up?” “It’s cooler at the lake.” The lake in question is Lake Ontario, the smallest of the great lakes, that produces a unique climate along its southern shore. Its water gets cold during the winter and stays cold longer then the surrounding land, so as the sun warms the towns and neighborhoods in land, it’s cooler at the lake. Technically, Lake Ontario also stays warmer in the winter, but temperature is relative so when it’s “warmer” and 18 degrees by the lake and 0 degrees in land, and the wind is blowing, no one really notices or cares. But in the spring, that 20 degrees cooler in Pultnevyville really makes a difference. There are lots of interesting people and places in this part of the world, I’d like to share my thoughts on some of them here. I hope you’ll read my thoughts, and I hope you enjoy them. Maybe you’ll agree with me, maybe you won’t. If you agree, let me know, share the website, give me a like. If you don’t, let me know too. To often in todays America disagreement is seen as hate, and that’s just sad. I disagree with lots of people I really like. But I know listening to them makes me a better person, even if we don’t ever agree. To often people think if they can just yell loader then those they disagree with, their thought is somehow justified. Or if they can put angry comments on a website, without ever actually talking to a person, it shows they are somehow better. Maybe it would be a good idea to actually listen to each other. So, if you don’t agree, how about we could sit down and talk about it. I’d be happy to meet you in Pultneyville, when the weather gets nice. We could have a glass of lemonade, or hard cider, or some ice cream. It’s hard to be angary when you’re having ice cream. Just remember to wear a jacket, or a sweater, or a parka. It’s cooler at the lake.

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