This week is spirit week at JAMS.  It has been a blast admiring the creative student costumes and even trying on some of my own.  Wednesday, I came dressed in a black, velvet cloak for Medieval Day and had to explain a thousand times that I was not Harry Potter, or Snape, or Voldemort.  It’s good to know these kids are reading (or attending movies).  Yesteray was School Spirit Day, so I donned my JAMS pride shirt.

Today, however, was the day that excited me most.  Decade Day.  I decided on the decade I knew best:  the 90s.  To prepare myself, I spent the past few days listening to some of my favorite 90s grunge rock bands (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains).  I pulled out the t-shirt I made a few months ago using a brown cotton shirt and some bleach, put on my most faded pair of jeans, slipped on my steel-toe boots, and topped the whole wardrobe off with a brown flannel tied around my waist.

 It felt like stepping into a time warp.  My old band director (who teaches at JAMS with me) passed me this morning and smiled.  “That’s your old high school style, isn’t it?”  I nodded.  “I haven’t seen you like that for a long time.”  Ten years, I thought.

The combination of my 90s grunge wardrobe, Kurt Cobain’s mesmerizing drawl pouring from my car speakers, and my old band director has sent waves of some sort of sadness through me.  I miss my friends from high school.  I miss Eugene, John, Jamie, and yes… I miss Will.  I don’t really miss who I was back then because I believe we all grow and change, usually for the better.  But I miss the things that were a big part of my life back then.

I’m know there are a number of people out there who are no longer in touch with old high school friends, and maybe that is for the better.  Will and I tried to hold onto our friendship after high school, but eventually our personalities eventually clashed because we were no longer the same people.  Now he has cut off all contact with me or anyone else from high school.

As you know, Eugene and I are holding strong as friends.  Every time we call each other or come over for a visit, we have something to talk about.  I once drove past a Tattoo Parlor/Auto Body Shop and just had to call Eugene to tell him. 

Imagine it:  you’re waiting for your car to be fixed.  Hmm… I think I’ll get a tattoo while I wait.  Brad Barkley, an excellent writer from WV, once told me about a store that sold candles and cowboy boots.  It was called “Kicks and Wicks.”

Here’s a challenge.  Can you think of a good name for a tatoo parlor/auto body shop?  Good luck.