Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me...

Kman, the Artist

Today his mother will remember her baby boy. Perhaps today, his brothers will stop during their workday to recall long ago birthday taunts and teasings. Today, another year is written and past; unchangeable, unrepeatable. And so, Kman turns 51.

I knew him first as a tall slender boy of 13 with a quick wit and an easy-going smile. His best friend and I were "steadies" and we tolerated his tag-along shadow during dates at the roller rink or the yearly fall carnival. Last weekend, the loyal friend and his wife came by to say hello and visit a bit. I sat between the two gray-haired men seeing them again as the young boys who were a part of my youth. Their laughter and banter carried me years away.

In high school, the Kman and I shared a few classes. His drawings were collector's items among our peers, and my senior annual has a quick pen drawing of our school mascot, complete with a can of beer in his cougar paw: "WHHS Drinking Team", the slogan written alongside it. Given the title "Most Witty", he was the proverbial class clown, and everyone's friend.

Had either of us possessed a crystal ball back then, we would have not believed that glass orb of all-knowing. Life is quirky and serendipitous. Fast forward thirty-two years and I am Mrs. Kman, Mrs. Most Witty. As Kman likes to point out, we go together like "peas and carrots". And so we do.

Happy Birthday, Kman. You're not 51, you're 18 with 33 years experience. As the great Robert Browning put it:

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made.