Technology has a way of possible contact with the past. I'm exploring that right now. I take that back, I'm exploring a facet of that. A tiny facet.
Years ago I was asked if I'd be interested in a date with a girl. I was a young red-blooded American boy. I gave the politically correct answer before there was a poltically correct. I loaded into my friends Corvair. See that should tell you how old I am without guessing. And we went into the big town. Through Beaucatcher Tunnel.
She was a nice girl. I was a nice boy. Norman Rockwell picture and all of that. But I was too nice. I had this thing about age. My age. Her age. Now I guess that separation wouldn't be so bad but then I'm ancient now. Back then there was a difference.
Now being a good old boy from the side of Greybeard Mountain I said to myself real careful like. "Whoa. Your spirit might be willing and your temperature rising but think about it." So I did. I decided I had to be fair to this girl and by reflection fair to me. And to think I was a member of the "free-love" generation.
Anyway, a couple of days later, I get this book in the mail. Now I heard my inner person screaming "whoa."
It was such a nice gesture. It was a nice book. But I just couldn't take the book. To do so would have been sending a message and leading her on. I think I sent a nice note. I honestly can't remember.
Years later I sit with snow on top of my head waiting for snow on the top of ther mountain. And I wonder. What happened to that really nice girl?
I've lived so many years. I've carried so many riddles.
With technology though it might be possible to know what happened to that seet girl.
"Chickens crowing on Sourwood Mountain.
Hey dee ding dand dally all day."
[ED. Concerted effort to include URL: