FLASHBACKS :: When I was invited late last week fairly last minute to a party being thrown by my trouble-making friend Joe from San Francisco, in my city on business, I did what any gay man does when he needs a date, I called my BFF.
Amanda and I go back. We’ve shared apartments (often when young love broke our hearts), I gave her her first hit of e at a gay nightclub, back when I was the guy giving people their first hits of e at gay nightclubs. A pelican once shat on her before my very eyes, in Mexico, and I peed my Speedo from laughing so hard. Once out shopping, gabbing, we passed a man on the sidewalk with no arms and no legs. He sat on a towel.
“Have a happy day!” he called up as we passed.
Scared the crap out of us.
Once we absorbed the sight at hand and were out of sight, we collapsed in an immature fit of giggles around the corner.
Fortunately today we’re both a little older and possibly more mature, and, also fortunately, Amanda now finally colours her pixie-cut hair fire-engine red, like I have been begging her to do for at least a decade.
As it would happen, I myself had a hair appointment scheduled before Joe’s party, Â so I asked Amanda to pick me up and we’d go from there. She did and we left. Walking, she complained about how painful the new leopard heels she was wearing were.
“Remember when I used to tell you what shoes to buy, and you would, no matter how high the heel?” I asked. Before Amanda could reply I grabbed her hand.
“Look up,” I said. “We’re at 222 The Esplanade.”
We were outside a condo we shared ages ago, our first time there together in about 15 years. Amanda gasped with delight and immediately wrapped me in a bear hug. We peered in the lobby windows to see what changes had occurred since we vacated. Amanda recalled the hot guy that used to work at the concierge, who caused us to blurt in unison “I saw him first!” upon laying eyes on him together.
We left and rounded the other side of the building to stare up to the 3rd floor. We counted the windows until we found #315, our old unit. A kaleidoscope of memories swirled in my head. I looked my old friend and smiled.
At that moment I spotted coming up behind Amanda, a man in a motorized wheelchair speeding our way.
He had no arms or legs.
He sped past us. Amanda was still gazing up at #315.
I pointed him out to Amanda, incredulous.
“WTF?” she laughed.
I first met Amanda when I was in the play ‘Deathtrap’, co-starring with her father, pictured. Amanda just emailed me this long-forgotten clipping. Look at how well I wore those shoulder pads.
Later, at Joe’s party as we enjoyed vodka, donuts, ice cream and popcorn and Joe, Amanda said to me. “I don’t read HIMBO! any more.”
“Oh really? Why?” I asked.
“It’s gone all Law of Attraction,” she said.
Wearily.
Amanda and I differ on our enthusiasm for the meta-physical. She is Aquarius. I am Leo.
But you see, Amanda, there’s nothing more Law of Attraction than feeling the fullness of life and then getting even more fullness from life like we did last Friday night. When you understanding Law of Attraction, what it means to align you with you, why, your bestie can be free on a whim, meet you by what turns out to be your old home together, and then have appear someone pretty much resembling that guy who scared the crap of us one day in some kind of cosmic way most would call a coincidence. In other words, the best of life swirling around you at all times.
Yep, HIMBO! is all Law of Attraction now, but the good news is, like the night of Joe’s party, it’s all Law of Attraction anyway. Every last bit of it.
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2012 Toronto Law of Attraction workshop dates:
- September 15th
- October 13th
- November 17th
