Somewhere Down the Crazy River

***Since it is No Whining Wednesday, I will regale you with a mindless story from my youth - I wrote this while inebriated, so please consider the source.  

When I was a kid, one of my closest friends was Clarke. He was actually pretty hot stuff - looked like a taller, more beefy version of Ralph Macchio (ya know - the Karate Kid) - but he was family to me.

Clarke never once entered our house by using a door. He always came in through my bedroom window. It was not unusual for him to trek across the road in the morning (in summer, of course) pop my window open and crawl right into bed with me. I know what you are thinking, but it was as though my mom viewed him as a unik or something. She never even flinched when he'd come up to the kitchen with me in the mornings. He used to grab my hand when he had an itch and "scratch himself" with it - and Mom would just laugh. Looking back, I think she was nuts to let him treat her teen aged daughter like that, but as I said - he was family to us.

Anyhoo - Clarke and I were like two peas in a pod. We hung out all the time ... went to movies every Tuesday night in the summer - we were great buds ... until I started dating close to his circle. Things got a little ugly then. He was seriously jealous. I mean he was a man whore ... I would equate him to a Joey Tribianni. A mimbo, even. But if one of his boys so much as raised an eyebrow in my direction, they could expect a beating from him ... and he was a competitive boxer, so it wasn't an idle threat.

When I was around 15, I had myself a bit of a stalker. He wasn't dangerous, but he spent way too much time camped outside my house at night in hopes I would get changed with the lights on and curtains open. Clarke found out about it ... sprinted to buddy's house, pounded the livin' shit outta him and then sprinted back. He stopped at my house on his way home. His hand was bleeding. I asked him what had happened and he told me "Duffus" wouldn't be bothering me anymore. I had no idea what had been going on, but once he told me, I had a hard time being mad at him for protecting my virtue. And protect it, he did. Vehemently. The boys in my home town got the message loud and clear after that little incident - touch Dani ... at your own risk.

At one point, he hung around with a guy by the name of Jack. Jack was dreamy. I'm talkin' muffin-butterin' dreamy here. He was the triple threat: Handsome/Funny/Chivalrous. He too, was a mimbo - but I failed to see that. He and Clarke hung out quite a bit, and that brought Jack directly into my life. In my world, we had every toy known to man (or boy, for that matter). There was the pool table in the garage, the weed stash in the tool box, the ATV, the snowmobiles, the boats, canoes, video games, satellite dishes - you need to remember that this would have been more than 20 years ago - this stuff was not so common place then.

The long and the short of it was, I tended to have guys hanging around. Jack was different, though. I had a serious crush on him. This one late summer day, he and Clarke came over. They wanted to take the canoe out exploring the lake (which I lived on). I said that I was in and we were off. ** side bar - I was the 'condition' that came with enjoying the 'stuff.' ** We paddled to the other side of the lake ... well - they paddled, I sat in the middle of the canoe like Cleo fricken Patra. Another benefit of being the spoiled kid with all the stuff.

It was then that we discovered the river.

It seemed like a good idea to go into the river. I mean we had all lived in the area forever - what could go wrong?? We made it in quite a ways before the going started getting hard. I was not wearing shoes ... so when the time came to get out of the canoe and walk ... well, I was not able to do so. It was then that Jack carried me. Bear in mind that I was like 15 ... and he would have been roughly 17. I mean ... to say I was smitten would be quite an understatement. I would have borne his children at that very moment had he asked me. He didn't, mind you ... but I woulda.

We ended up getting further and further in and eventually had to abandon the canoe. We walked for a really long time over some pretty rocky terrain before we stumbled onto civilization again. It was dark by the time we made it to the house where we wound up using a phone and calling my parents to come and pick us up.

At the end of the day, it wound up being okay, but there were moments during our journey that I felt certain Jack and I would need to re-populate the world... and I was ready (not to mention willing).

After that day, I think Clarke caught on to my crush ... and Jack came around less and less. It was heartbreaking for me (for a week). I felt certain I would never love again. Months passed and loves came and went, but Clarke stayed. I loved him like a big brother ... hated him the same way.

Clarke married a gal that detests me. She's crazy jealous and I have been banned from his life. He has three daughters with her - which is fitting. If he had 10 kids, I feel certain they would each be gorgeous girls (as are his three). Seems only fair that he should suffer the fate of a father of gorgeous girls. I have to smile. Though, I must say - I miss him terribly.

To this day, I can not hear the song "Somewhere Down the Crazy River" by Robbie Robertson and not be transported to this day. It will live in my heart in the corridors of aqua-marine tinged memories of a life lived more simply.