The Diatribe * net

Four years.  What’s happened in four years?  Man, that’s a tough one.  It’s so amazing how we can, each and every one of us, pick little microcosms of our lives that actually tell a full and complete story and yet, in the grand scheme of things, are just blips on the radar of life.  Far out.

For me, as I sit here and create a microcosm for myself, I remember world events like 9/11 and anthrax, a space shuttle explosion and Saddam Hussein in a hole.  I remember Hollywood blockbusters like Spiderman 1 and 2, the final two episodes of Star Wars, and perhaps the most quoted movie by our little clique, Old School.  I think of random and inexplicable good times, like seeing a Coors Light commercial featuring a faux polar bear and laughing our asses off.  I think of the Canadian Ballet and the 4th of July.  I think of grooms on tractor trailers and friends stuck in Battery Tunnel traffic.  And of course, I think of the 2004 Boston Red Sox.

I am full of both wonderful and painful memories.  But, in this four-year microcosm of Captain Larby’s life, one event outshines the rest.  On a fateful day, at a place called Pat Flannigan’s, two worlds collided on an ungraceful, yet unavoidably wonderful course.  Almost three months later, on 6/16/2001, the deal was sealed.  And as I sit here and type these words, the Future Mrs. Larby is sitting on the couch reading a book, casually bopping her head to the sounds of Sinatra and I realize that I am truly a happy man.  Here’s to you, A. 

And here’s to you LTJ, without whom things would be very different right now.  And here’s to CJ, Mayor Jeremul, Dr. Danker,  and the rest of the Boston crew who have sustained our core for four years.  Four years seems like such a short, finite span of time and yet the memories seem to go on and on and on…