A few months ago, I shared a video of me performing at the Teen Angst Night, where I read from my grade 8 and grade 11 yearbooks. For those who missed it, here it is one more time:
In my yearbook manifesto, I mentioned a childhood friend, Brett Glosli, who kindly signed my yearbook, and as a ungrateful, angry teenager, I also wrote "Fuck Brett Glosli" for taking the time and leaving his autograph in my empty, lonely book. Although the performance brought back many memories, I thought nothing more of the incident since that night.
And then, as I sat stuck in an airport in Arkansas, this happened on Facebook:
Brett and I laughed about it over Facebook. He hasn't changed a bit. Still a good sport. Still kind like I always remembered. 20 years later, I reconnected with an old friend all because of a stupid comment I made on a silly yearbook. What seemed so trivial became something so beautiful. Sometimes it may seem impossible to believe that things happen for a reason, but sometimes it is also difficult to deny the opposite. It's nice to see you again, dear friend.
Oh, and I didn't forget to remind him: