There’s a Ben Folds lyric that goes:
Well I’ve seen some old friends sort of die/or just turn into whatever must have been inside them/whatever all of us had then in common/we grew up/left home/we don’t think that way no more…
In another song, Folds sings:
grew a mustache and a mullet/got a job at Chik-fil-a/citing artistic differences the band broke up in May/and in June reformed without me/but they got a different name/I nuked another Grandma’s apple pie/and hung my head in shame
In another:
smile/like you’ve got nothing to prove/no matter what you might do/you know there’s always someone cooler than you
And one more:
the old bastard left his ties and his suit/a brown box/mothballs and bowling shoes/and his opinion do you’d never have to choose/pretty soon you’ll be an old bastard, too
Why the big dump of Ben Folds? My experience on Friday got me to thinking about some old friends who have left my life, some in fizzles and some in anger. I have been puzzled by why some of them never reached back toward me when I extended myself to them. But I think I get it.
I know who I am now. I’m not sure I knew that earlier in my life, and the people I used to spend my time with were not like me. I think we all turned into whatever must have been inside us.
And who they are wouldn’t like who I am. Sometimes that hurts. But today, I’m cool with that.
I like me.
I was never cool in school.
I’m sure you don’t remember me.