1978. It was a good year. It had all that a young man would want. Especially this young man.
I have a shirt which boldly claims across its face, 'St. Hedwig 78". I bought it myself, with my own five dollars, a treasure back then. I can't wear it anymore. But both my sons have. I have pictures to prove it.
I asked a girl out and she said yes. I cannot begin to explain how on top of Cloud Nine I was. I hadn't had the courage to ask a girl out before that; the first time I did, she said yes. I'm far out of her orbit now. I found a better girl, and she's had three wonderful children with me. We're still married; that's her rum luck. But the euphoria I felt that night...it was dark, it was late, it was in Stromboli's back parking lot. And it was marvelous.
What I feel right now is intense. It is a feeling which transcends all other feelings I now know. And it all traces back to 1978.
1978. It was a very good year.