Sometimes a Trumpet is Just a Trumpet
I am always surprised when an acquaintance from high school pops into my dreams at night. It doesn't happen very often, but I graduated well over 15 years ago! Where does this come from? Last night, Kevin dropped by. We bumped into each other in a flower market in Cape Cod. I was loading an armload of lilies into the basket on my bicycle, and there he was. We embraced, then had an, er, interlude. Later I had a bath while he played the trumpet.

In high school, Kevin was one of the 'nice guys' (sorry, Kev). He was smart, funny, and an above-average trumpet player. He sat behind my first clarinet in the school jazz band. I heard through the grapevine that he went on to political life, as a city councilor, then an aid to Pri.me Min.ister Br.ian Mul.ron.ey. He married young, and had a few kids. He was never my type, but always a friend. Why I had that kind of dream about someone to whom I haven't given a second though in over a decade, I'll never know.

Should I feel guilty (I don't)? Was it the lilies? The trumpet?