My Oldest Bestest Friend

I remember being at a dinner for dormitory house fellows (I was in med school and was working as a house fellow...but I digress) where a man described an educated person as one who could entertain a friend, entertain an idea and entertain them self. Yesterday, the view from from my window was the one above. The return of the bad weather has begun to effect my health. I sat, I ate more, I exercised less and I lost my enthusiasm to entertain anything, especially myself.

After a good dose of self pity, I reminded myself that the more complex the illness, the more basic the solution. So, what basic cure did I need? Then, I remembered my first love. I'd met her when I was 8 years old, and we became instant lovers. I used to put my mouth to hers and press her buttons while imagining wonderful things. When the hour grew late and the noise too loud, I had to be satisfied to sit with her in my bedroom and just silently finger her buttons.

Over the years, our relationship matured. At age 12, I left her and took a new lover that I have to this day. I learned every nuance of her curves and with my lips and finger tips could get any response from her that I could imagine. So it was only natural that, in my darkest hour of need, I let her out of the closet, pressed my lips to hers, closed my eyes and played her.

The sweet sounds first, then the heady bop riffs, and I'd soon forgotten (for a little while, anyway) about winter. Now that's a bestest friend if there ever was one.

Paddle safe...

DS