mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys

Two weekends ago I took a last minute trip to Dallas. As I mentioned, the wanderlust does not mess around these days although I like to think this kind of travel precludes the anywhere but here mentality. 

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There are few people in life that can hold you accountable the way a childhood friend can. They know your story, your personality, your tendencies to make the same sort of bad decisions. After all, most of the time they were right next to you doing the same thing. So on a bit of whim and on a bit of need, I made the trek to Texas and spent the weekend with my friend and her family. And everything was exactly the same and everything was completely different. 

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We turn the music up to drown out the passing suburbia. The same sequence of stores line the streets as we make our way around the now familiar curves. We sing loud as if with purpose like so many times before. Each song with its own distinct set of memories attached. The good and the bad equally weighted with each track. Remember when becomes the oft-repeated refrain.

A little voice pipes up from the back seat "like this Mama?" And just as quickly as we melded into the past, we are forced forward into the present. Her little body bounces around as much as possible within the confines of a car seat in an effort to move to the music. She mimics our movements and sometimes sings-along to these songs she's grown up with. The same ones we grew up with. 

Eventually, we arrive at our intended destination and the scent of manure and muck greets us. Following the flurry of flailing limbs, we sidestep puddles making our way to the slightly soggy paddocks. It's too muddy to ride today but none of us care. The three of us take turns feeding scraps of hay and grass to the locals. With no where to be we mosey around the barn's grounds making sure to visit each of its inhabitants. 

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I've known this friend for 15 years and despite living in different states for the last 10  it's easy to fall back into the familiar rhythms. Perhaps because those first 5 years feel at least twice as long as the last 10. Most of the time though I feel completely changed. I've moved on. I'm older. Supposedly wiser. At least I tell myself that. But the past creeps into the present and permeates into my everyday life in ways I fail to see until it can no longer be ignored, forcing me to reconcile the old and new me.

I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be. -- Joan Didion

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notes:

- listen/watch here if the title to this post confuses you. actually click on it either way for ed bruce in all his glory, some great 80s fashion, and to reminisce about indoor smoking.

- as you may have guessed, some of these pictures are from a few months ago. some day i'll remember to use my camera consistently.