Ode To Blaine

Some leave a fingerprint that takes a dusting of nostalgia to jog the memory.

Others leave imprints that trail off to another time and place.

There are those that leave scars, gnarled patches of the damage left in their wake.

But occasionally someone makes a meteoric impact on your soul, that no amount of time can erase their memory.

Blaine stepped into my life under the pretense of easing his own pain, self medicating like we all did at that age. When he asked if I knew where to get any weed, I looked him up and down. Clad in a bright yellow raincoat and matching boots, an argyle sweater, and course green corduroys, I thought, “This son of a bitch is going to get beat down.”

I told him I had a fiver I could kick in. If he went down beyond the hole in the fence, he’d find Mark, the neighborhood dealer, standing around a barrel fire with his friends, Larkey and Freddy. “Watch out for Larkey, he might try to steal those boots,” I only half joked since Larkey thrived off conflict in any form. But Blaine was resolute, and trekked down the sandy hill to where they stood, huddled.

“Whoa, it’s the Gordon’s Fisherman.” Freddy remarked.

“No, dude, that’s friggin’ Gilligan.” Larkey added.

It took two seconds to brand him. From then on he’d be referred to as Gilligan.

Blaine laughed, “That’s a good one. I was hoping to procure some smoke. Could you gentlemen point me in the right direction?” The group fell silent. Larkey took a strategic position behind Blaine. There go the boots, I thought.

Mark snickered. He was holding, always. My Catholic school friends were born with silver spoons, educated, articulate, and my public schools friends were, well, not. But Blaine was different. While the rest of us struggled with our identities, Blaine only ever wanted to be Blaine. Take him or leave him. I think they knew that in the first five seconds of meeting him, just like I did. Blaine walked away, boots intact. Mark even gave him six for ten, something he only did for his best customers, like me.

Our twentieth reunion was on Friday. I was as reluctant to go now as I was during all four years of high school. I never really felt like I fit in. I favored obscurity and remained on the fringe.
Blaine met with a lot of adversity in high school. He’ll tell you he doesn’t remember it like that, but I do. People took issue with the one thing I admire most about Blaine, his integrity.
Blaine handled private school differently and summed up his perspective in a drunken stupor after the reunion where he hugged everyone he met, drank like a sailor on leave, and partied like it was 1999, “I’d give you the shirt off my back, but you’ll never get me to change my mind if it’s set.” And he means it.

We’re great friends and in a way, he’s a hero of mine. He stands for something but does so unassumingly, and he asks for nothing in return for his unconditional friendship.