It's time.....

to delete this blog and let it rest for a while. I only kept the post about Jody because it is important to me.

Gonna write other stuff here

Remembered

I was new to Evansdale Elementary's 3rd grade class in 1980. I'd just moved from Beaverton, Oregon where I'd spent many happy days running barefoot in the woods and jumping in the creek, to Atlanta, Georgia where people spoke slowly and employed a vernacular that was as strange to me as the grits they ate and the sickly sugared tea they drank. It was a foreign place to me, and I was unsure about navigating this new sphere of existance. The community I moved into was upper middle class, white (SO white), had a HOA, and beautifully maintained yards. My parents were given a handbook detailing each household- their address, ages and number of kids, and what profession the heads of household held. I remember looking through that book, desperate for any one with 8 yr. old children. Luckily, there were plenty, but mostly boys. Tommy across the street was my frequent playmate and taught me to play Dungeons and Dragons, so I was happy when he wound up in my class. Tommy's good pal was a boy who lived in a neighboring subdivision named Jody. Jody was by far the biggest kid in the class. Tall, with a mop of curls on his head, rode a Diamondback dirt bike, and an attitude that caused him to get his name written on the chalkboard A LOT. Authority figures looked at him with narrowed eyes and deemed him "trouble". He was fearless, and he didn't hesitate to break a rule or push a limit. He was my OG bad boy. As an eight year old, my biggest crush to date was on Han Solo in Star Wars. I was more into catching tadpoles and riding bikes with boys my age than having crushes on them. I was pretty freaked out when I got a note from Jody asking me to "go" with him. I had to turn to my female cohorts for clarification. I remember feeling immature because I didn't know what it meant. "Go steady, silly", my friend Kelly told me. Well. I was at a loss over how to navigate this new, awkward, era of pre- puberty. I still played with Barbies, for godssake! He had written one of those classic notes with the boxes to check: "Yes", "no", and "maybe". Maybe? I ultimately checked "no" because I was not into boys at that time (shocking to some, I am sure). That check mark did not deter Jody from trying to be my "boyfriend" for the next 4+ years. My friends teased me about it all the time. "Jody and Erin sittin' in a tree". Even in 4th grade, when I DID kinds/sorta start liking boys and would "go" with several of Jody's friends......he just saw it as a temporary road block. Every Valentine's Day, without fail, Jody showed up with candy or a stuffed animal or gift of some kind for me. When "Catch Me, Kiss Me", became the popular game during recess, I would run like hell when Jody tried to plant one on me. He was my friend, though. He sat at the "No Telling" table with me, Tommy, Andy, and Kelly at lunch (at our table, you could say or do whatever you wanted without anyone telling on you. We used a lot of profanity). I did get angry when he carved JM+ES in some wet cement outside of his house. He lived across the street from my dear friend Heather, and I saw that tribute to his devotion every time my bike wheels rolled over it on the way to her place. I spent the night frequently at Heather's, and Jody would throw pebbles at the window trying to get me to come out. Around 6th grade, "boy/girl" parties became THE cool thing. That social rite of passage was both frightening and thrilling with Spin the Bottle, and whatever other games that had potential for kissing. I think Jody got at least one in with not-so-sly manipulation of the bottle in his favor. In 7th grade, I switched schools because my parents split up. If moving to Georgia was a whole new world for me, moving to my new middle school was a different universe. The privileged comfort I had lived in all of my life shifted. My new reality was that of latch- key childhood, fist fights at the bus stop, babysitting to buy my own clothes, and running wild on the streets of my new hood, replete with homogeneous starter homes and bland strip malls. Different as it was, it was not too far away from my old neighborhood, and I stayed in touch with old friends for a while. I went to a party at my friend Melissa's. Jody was there.....and he was kinda cute. So after years of "will you go with me", I did. We went to a few movies, spoke on the phone for hours, and I remember getting him a Jimi Hendrix album for Christmas. We broke up....who knows why....before I could give it to him. I wound up giving it to the pot-head mother of one of my new classmates. About a year later, my mom remarried, and I moved to North Georgia (yet another culture shock....). I never spoke to Jody again. Facebook is a funny thing. The perfectly curated highlight reels of everyone's lives makes me roll my eyes at times, but it has been great in putting me back in touch with old friends. I re-connected with Heather, one of my favorite childhood pals, and the one who lived across from Jody. She told me Jody was back living with his mom because he'd been ill. I think she mentioned a stroke. This saddened me, and I considered dropping him a line, which had great potential for us to share a few laughs. But, it wasn't top billing in my list of stuff to do, so I forgot about it.

Jody died this week. I got the sad news via good ol' Facebook. I'm sad. Really sad. I knew Jody had tough times as a kid, and I wondered how he'd fared as an adult. Maybe he was always the one folks labeled as "trouble". Hell, maybe he earned that. But to me, he'll always be the first boy who had a crush on me. The one who showered me with Valentines and relentlessly pursued kisses. Unruly curly hair, AC/DC t-shirt, and a Diamondback BMX bike. Initials in the cement. Maybe they're still there.

I could live to be 100, and I'd never forget the name Jody Morrow. I hope you are at peace, sweet boy.