In June 1985, I left my "dead end" job to open my own practice. An Attorney who I had seen often offered to rent me an office. I was thrilled. Not only did I get an office at a reasonable rat, but i got a mentor also.
The mentor part didn't exactly work out. He was highly intelligent, but too devious for my tastes. I left him in December 1986.
We'd run into each other many times over the years. we are both always polite and gracious to each other. Yesterday was different. We spoke about the disease. Both of us are in good spirits.
You can't necessarily see the day to day changes in yourself, but they're evident upon someone who you haven't seen for a while. I suppose that they are evident on me too.
Long gone is that kid with the beard and the wavy hair. The beard would now be white and would exacerbate the chafing problem that Parkinson's has caused. The hair clogs a drain.
I still wear pants with a 32" waist. Only now I need more than one pair to go around. My noble chin is still there, somewhere.
Where did that kid go? Oh he said so many inappropriate things. Like the time in his first year of Law School. The Contracts professor was teaching a lesson on "stopping the right of retraction." He turned to his friend in the next seat and said, "Stopping the right of retraction, my God, that sounds painful!" We were both asked to leave the classroom.
Although the hair and waist began to go in his twenties, the mouth remained. Like the toast he made at a playboy friend's bachelor party, "I've had four heroes in my life, John Lennon, Mickey Mantle, Groucho Marx and you. Now you're all dead." For some strange reason my contracts professor showed up and asked me to leave the party.
Youth was so much fun. I must visit there from time to time.
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