Dec. 27: In the news

I’ve been walking down a very dim Memory Lane the past couple days, wishing I could remember more about a friend of mine from high school, and also wondering about the changes in his life since 1986.

I won’t use his full name here because I don’t want my blog popping up as a search result for him. Out of 60-some graduates in the PAA Class of ‘86, there were several Mikes. This guy was one of them. (I’m not referring to Mike Devitt, of whom I’ve not really lost touch over the years. Mike Devitt was at least one Mike that turned out alright, depending on your definition of “alright.” Heh heh heh…)

The classmate I’ve been thinking of is Mike B. He was very friendly and flirty, and liked to pretend he was a much badder boy than he probably was. And you know what good girls often think of bad boys... Mike B was never the type I wanted to date, but he was definitely a fun person to be around. When he flirted—especially with me, because I embarrassed easily—he would almost always take it too far, just to get a reaction. It always worked.

A bunch of us girls were like that with him—we enjoyed the attention but that was about enough. Boys who wore Ozzy Osbourne shirts under their sweaters got in trouble way too much. This was not a boy our parents would have been pleased to see pick us up for a date.

I have one memory of Mike B that stands out more than any other. It was a Friday night, and my dad was out of town so I took the opportunity to throw a party. (Now who’s the bad kid???) My girlfriends and I invited an odd assortment of classmates—or maybe we invited everyone and it was just a handful of them who actually showed—and Mike B and another guy showed up drunk. I didn’t want them mixing with the good kids, so I sent them down the hall and can’t remember what I did next… did I actually try to get a party going? Was I that much of a Martha Stewart back then, that I wouldn’t let two juvenile delinquents ruin my otherwise perfectly good party? Gah.

Knowing me, I was playing Amy Grant cassettes and starting up a game of Ellen G. White Trivia for the good kids in the living room while the bad boys at the end of the hall got drunker. Gotta keep all the guests happy! At one point I remember dragging a couple girlfriends back there to check on them with me, and they got loud so we went into my bedroom. My door ended up closed, and the lights ended up off, and suddenly there were lots of hands in lots of places. The lights quickly went back on and the door re-opened.

We were never scared of Mike B and his friend. Maybe we should’ve been, but Mike B’s drunk self was a sillier version of his regular self, and I’m quite sure we weren’t in a potentially dangerous situation. But my clearest memory of this moment was that Mike B then really, truly kissed me, several times. And y’know what? It was gooood. Because I wasn’t in love with him, I felt guilty to think it was so nice to be kissed by him, but I hadn’t been kissed all that much in my life yet so I went with it. Then the hands started again, and I called it to a stop—honestly, more out of fear than a lack of curiosity.

I ushered our little crowd back into the living room, where the drunk ones declared my party an absolute bore and left. I don’t remember the others hanging around much longer either. My girlfriends spent the night and there was much giggling and review of the night’s activities.

At school Monday morning, nothing was said, nor were uncomfortable looks exchanged. I’m guessing it’s because Mike B didn’t remember anything, so the rest of us pretended not to either. But for being a guy I never exactly crushed on, I can remember kissing him almost like it was yesterday instead of nearly 25 years ago.

Why the sudden walk down Memory Lane? Because I’ve seen a current picture of Mike B on the news many, many times over the last 48 hours. He was arrested yesterday morning when he surrendered himself after shooting and killing his mother at home on Christmas Day. News reports say there was a history of mental problems and that he had not been taking medications he needed. Here are local news pieces from KGW, KOIN, and The Oregonian.

Our very small graduating class has suffered some tragic deaths since high school, and at least two former classmates are now (or soon will be) serving murder sentences in prison. “Sad” doesn’t begin to cover it.