You'll Remember

Jimmy the bartender from The Varsity in Vermillion called twice a few mornings ago at 1:59 and 2:04.

My first year in town was a little rough. Jeremy had just moved out, and wherever I went in town, everyone seemed to know one another. I was a stranger. But I felt less like one when I walked through the Varsity doors. Part of this was because I knew that somewhere in the basement, my dad's initials were carved into one the wooden booths near the stage where he and his band "The Lovin' Blue" used to play. History is always comforting. But part of this was because of Jimmy, who always came out from behind the bar to give me a hug--and then make fun of me for being a vegetarian in South Dakota. For my part, I harassed him for being a murderer and for not offering cheese pizza on the menu.

I'm not sure why I didn't answer; perhaps it has something to do with that feeling of displacement and the fact that I've purposely left it 500 miles behind me. Still, when I went back to teach the workshops not long ago, that same summer of 03 feeling was a weight on my heart and mind. And every time I drove past main street, I made sure to catch a glimpse of the Varsity's familiar neon lights.