In the process of building two new computers, I mistakenly thought that I had to install a floppy disk drive into one of them.  While doing so, I tried to think of files that I might be able to access using the drive.  Then I remembered a biggie: a box of about thirty 3.5 inch floppy disks containing family photos from 1997 to 1999, starting from a time that David and Jonny were 8 and 6 years old, respectively.  Hidden treasure, about to be unearthed!

They started with pictures taken on Cape Cod at Putter’s Paradise, our favorite mini-golf venue, where the kids had blue lips from the popsicles they had just eaten.  On to baseball pictures of David in full Waltham uniform (the “Tigers”–I forget which company sponsored them), at the plate swinging at high pitches (which he usually hit), crouching in the infield.  I wonder where that uniform went.  I’m sure it’s in a stack of Mom-laundered and -neatly folded kids’ clothes among the numberless stacks in our house…

Old friends and classmates and their moms, invited over for birthday parties, including a special one of Jonny’s where a magician (his name was Steve) entertained us in our living room.  Or “play dates”, a way to get the kids together with friends who lived in other towns.  (When I was a kid there was no need for such occasions–we had each other (there were six of us), and Kenny down on the corner.)  Usually the three of us “big” boys and Kenny split into teams to play stickball in the back yard using a broomstick and an old tennis ball.  I hated to lose.  Whenever Howie and Ha won a game, I would throw myself on the ground, kicking and screaming, yelling “it isn’t fair, you cheated!”

One day while I was in the midst of one such tantrum, the window flew open in an adjoining apartment building, and a woman cried out “Would you be quiet, you Communists!!!”  Chastened, we ran into the house and asked my mother “What’s a Communist?”  “Shhh!” she said.  “Where did you hear that word?”  Remember, it was around 1960, only shortly after the Joe McCarthy era.  The next day after school, a woman came up to us on the steps and said “I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.  It’s just that your crying was driving me nuts!”

Where was I?  Oh yes, the pictures.  I remember when the kids were not yet school age, when we felt particularly isolated from friends.  “Maybe when the kids start school they will make new friends, and we can make friends with their parents!”  This plan came to fruition over the following years; we befriended several families, sharing school events, weekends, and even vacations together.  We made many friends at our kids’ sporting events, especially Ultimate Frisbee.  The tournaments lasted two days over beautiful sunny weekends (by and large), and cheering from the sidelines led naturally to parental bonding (with each other).

I somehow expected these friendships to last forever.  They didn’t.  Although we are still fond of all of these old friends, as all of our kids grew  up and went to college, the commonality which we shared gradually dissolved.  (In the same way the friendships I have made at various workplaces have also faded when I left those places.)

I realize that this narrative has wandered.  I have been multi-tasking, feeding floppies full of photos into the other computer while I write.  Now that I have finished the three years’ worth, it’s time to look through them in earnest.

Thanks for reading.