Sunday, March 18, 2012

April Father's Day (2/3)

Previously... http://toussaintmorrison.blogspot.com/2012/03/april-fathers-day-13.html


The flashback I took was to Wisconsin years ago... Farina and I had been friends off and on for several years- christ, I think it had been close to 5 or 6 years. When we first met is foggy, the time and place is easy to rememeber, the year however... not so easy. There was a time when The Blend and I had been traveling so much that whatever was going on in my life was ultimately trivial in comparison to the present moment. When you're on the road for weeks at a time things get blurry, time doesn't exist, liability becomes zero. We were a band traveling the country, but could've easily been mistaken for an outfit of documentarians seeing how far they could gas cross the country on as little money possible. My mentality didn't process the definition of accountability as much as it could factor in the morning after.

Getting to the point, whenever we traveled through Oshkosh, we would board at a house off of Algoma Ave. The house was huge, an upstairs as big as the 1st floor, and rooms big enough to throw several parties in by themselves. Aside from its titanic size and fragrant smell of a bar, the house was home to a notorious drug dealer, Nino. He sold from Minneapolis to Chicago, and housed new passerbys every week, weekend, and/or day. The place was a sinking ship on land, but always threw a riotous after party whenever we finished a show, and helped for me to get to know the locals to help support the next show in the area. It was one of those nights that I met Farina.

Guilty as sin, drunk, and way passed any means of sleeping for the night, the ship wrecked house on Algoma packed in with 50+ folks for the night. Pulling stupid human tricks, stupid drinking tricks, or simply conversing, everyone seemed to find their niche for the night and stuck with it. I'd been here one too many times, which meant only once, and could tell the evening was going to take a turn for anything but healthy. Too many drugs, too much alcohol for someone not get into a fight, too good to be true, I had to find a way out or a means to sleep somewhere before any major crime was committed. Pacing down the stairs, I ran into Farina being hit on by one of her friends in the stairway. Playing faux wingman for the next half-hour, I played safety net to Farina getting hit on guys wasted beyond belligerence. It worked, we became friends, and then I passed out on a couch with a death clutch onto my wallet and backpack making sure no one robbed me of more than I budgeted for.

Months later, Farina and I kept in touch as much a 21st century long-distance friendship could via the internet, and became good friends. When Farina moved to Minneapolis after having her fair share of University of Wisconsin Oshkosh, we began to hang out what seemed like everyday.
And then it happened. on one faithful night of evening galavanting... we became friends with benefits. After several years of solid friendship, we trekked into a murky gray title and understanding that would leave the friendship in a floating time rift of the unknown.


to be continued...

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