A brief note.
I had dinner with my former fiance and current friend, Julie T. Afterword, she went to Kroger to pick up a roll of film she found. A roll she believed was one of her long lost treasures. From there, she was planning on meeting me at Moms to view the new dog.
She had the developed film in tow and I figured she was just that excited about what they held. When she handed it to me, I saw how upset she was and guessed that had to do with the little dog, Guapo, that died a few months back. I asked if she was okay. She only nodded and said, "Look."
So I did and glory of glories, it was a roll of my film. Pictures of various things I did over the course of a year at least two years before I even met Julie T. I tried hiding my enthusiasm because she was upset thanks to the couple of shots of the girl I loved before her. It wasn't just the girl that upset her but that I loved this girl and you could tell in the pictures. Or maybe that's how I see it.
Aside from that crap and a trip to Boston, the pictures were such a wonderful romp through the past.
The theme was clearly Activism and Children.
I flipped through the candlelight vigil for Tennessee Death Row inmate, Phillip Workman, to the Critical Resistance Northeast Conference in NYC to rows of my kids from Glenview Elementary School singing in their choir to the babies I watched in the daycare at the church to dinner with my activist father figure, Harmon Wray.
McKee, there's a picture of you holding a candle at the vigil with your back to the partition chain link fence that separated us from the pro-death penalty folks. In the background, there's a young man holding a sign that read: "I hope he screams."
You wouldn't believe what I used to be.
And neither would I, if I didn't have pictures.
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