Have you been to many reunions in this life? Myself, I haven’t. Not high school, not college, none really. Until this one, the fishtank reunion, which I happen to be organizing. And let me tell you, having a reunion of international folk right here in Amsterdam is F U N. When I’m not freaking out about everyone enjoying themselves, that is.
It’s incredible. They come from such different places. I received a gift from one who arrived from Shanghai. I sat at a dinner table with a few who arrived from Iraq, Israel, LA and of course — PORTUGAL. I even received a cancelation email that read something like:
Dear BM, Im really disappointed to tell you, but things here in the west bank have taken a turn for the worse, and I won’t be able to attend the reunion. I have to be present at the negotiations between general so and so and general so and so. I was really looking forward to coming to the dam and seeing everyone, please give them my regards. — signed, important guy.
Yeah, I was sad to hear it, but then I thought — wow, we’ve got people all over the world doing important stuff. Feels cool to be related in any way to them.
Later this evening I found myself watching old friends wander into the bar and people rush over to hug them. I’ll be dammed if I didn’t almost see tears as well. Then I sat with the wonderful BlondeButBright for a few hours. Anyway, time to get a few hours sleep before the next events.
My phone has been ringing off the hook, as the old amsterdam schoolmates return to the fair city. Which means I’m left with little time to say or read profound things, but I can definitely point you in the right direction:
If you haven’t been following the story, my compliments to you — you’re much better off. Yet, this does warrant discussion cause in all cases, government money will be spent on building those yummy temporary Olympic Villages, and plenty of new stadiums that nobody needs in the longterm. Remember the Mellenium Dome? I don’t. But the one reoccuring theme I see is that Olympic bids are portrayed as good news for everyone. Oh happy day, your city might get the olympics. Pull that wool over your eyes.
So today we played a double header, and despite all my screams of pain and frustration, I had a great time and made some sweet-ass catches. Probably most of the reason I work so hard on that field is that she inspires me to do so. Seriously, don’t laugh at me yet (wait til the end), but when I’m running the plays, her voice is always present… and I might be hallucinating out there (this is Amsterdam Frisbee League!) but I swear she’s always cheering for me. Even when I completely fuck up the play and wind up rolling around in the grass just short of the disc, EVEN THEN, I hear her shouting kind words like “Good Run BM!” or “GREAT DIVE BM.” I know it’s lame, but that small gesture goes a long way with me. Anytime I look her way, she’s lookin back with something positive or kind to say to me. I’m sure thats part of her frisbee Jedi training, but nevermind that — I like pretending it’s especially for ME.