THREE YOUNG MEN relaxed inside an enormous paper-recycling bin circa 1980, musing over their preferred futures.
Youthful dreams don’t always come true. But …
“I want a huge apothecary and knowledge of all kinds of medicinal roots, herbs, and such so I could heal people,” said the short blonde one.
“I want my own piece of land, so nobody could tell me what to do,” said the tall Japanese one.
“I want the world’s biggest library, filled with books of great wisdom,” said the bearded Jewish one.
The first young man left his companions in 2002, mission largely accomplished; the second, last year and likewise. The third is still working on his (the library, not the leave-taking).
My buddy Sputnik’s apothecary existed in considerable and connected chunks strewn throughout his relatively brief life; not to romanticize it, but his curiosity-fueled meanderings (medical and spiritual) always seemed to end up benefitting everyone around him.
My buddy Ralfh took a dark turn. Kind and gentle, yet terribly, terribly lost, he did eventually get his land – and also some serious incarcerations, which he bore as marks of grim defiance.
My quest for “the world’s biggest library” resulted in inheriting the textual legacy of one of this planet’s oldest and most misunderstood peoples. I don’t know it all, by far, but I do know more than I did – though considerably less than there is to know.
Youthful dreams don’t always come true. But sometimes, their ripples may reach beyond imagination. Here’s to absent friends – and the open sea.