A Forty Year Leap

We were famous baseball card collectors back in 1971 and 1972.  Scott Felkner and I became fast friends in fourth or fifth grade in Port Angeles, WA and every dime we could scrape together went for exactly one package of ten genuine Topps brand baseball cards.  They were the only brand available back then.  If we had as much as 50-cents each on us it was a stellar day.

His favorite team was the Detroit Tigers, as he was born in Pontiac, Mich.  And to this day I can still name the entire 1971 starting lineup of the Tigers because of him.  My team was the Baltimore Orioles.  I was attracted by the cartoon bird logo on their hats.  That and the fact that they had larger-than-life first baseman by the funny sounding name of Boog Powell.

Scott and BowlingJoe in 1972

Scott was part of a Coast Guard family, so as quickly as he arrived in Port Angeles his dad was off to a new assignment in Mobile, Alabama.  We wrote to each other a couple of times but lost touch when the teenage years were fast approaching.

Which brings us to 2010.  One of the (some would say few) good things about social media is the ability to reconnect with people you haven't seen in a blue moon.  And because his last name is Felkner and not Jones or Smith, the task became relatively easy on Facebook.  We've been keeping in touch every now and then on the site.

When BowlingWidow and I were planning our trip to Louisiana from which we recently returned (more on that in future blog posts), I had an opportunity to contact Scott and see if he and his wife, Janet, would be interested in making the drive from Mobile to have lunch, a couple of beers and a visit at place called The Bulldog in the Garden District of New Orleans.

Now, when you ask someone you haven’t seen in 40 years to meet up, it can be a risk of sorts.  I’m guessing that may have crossed Scott’s mind as well.  What would he be like in my now 51-year-old eyes?  And would the person I became somehow fall short of any expectations he may have had about the day?  After all, we’re products of our respective environments to at least some degree, and I’d be hard pressed to find two parts of this country that are as different as Western Washington and Alabama. 

Scott and BowlingJoe:  The 2012 Editions

Any concerns either of us may have had were certainly put to rest after a few minutes.  The hours flew by as we talked about old times, our families, jobs, what we like eat, do for fun, and how we got from point A to B to C so far in life.  We’re both still huge sports fans, love our families, and genuinely believe that we each live in the best part of the country.  In fact, I’d say it was a perfect day other than the fact that at one point I dumped an entire barbecued pulled pork sandwich on my lap.  (I guess my grandmother was right about my table manners).

This was our first visit to South.  I’m not sure when we’ll be back.  I’m not sure when or if Scott will ever make it to the Northwest to visit.  But I do know that we’ll be in touch a whole lot more over the next forty years.  This was one chance I’m glad I took.