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thedrifter
10-18-08, 09:45 AM
Posted on Sat, Oct. 18, 2008
Different lives don't part old pals

Last June, I got a phone call from someone named Mike Olsen.

"Who?" I asked, incredulous.

"Mike Olsen," he repeated. "Class of '58."

Wow. Mike Olsen. We hadn't seen or spoken with each other in more than 50 years, and I couldn't count the number of times I wondered what had become of him.

We were the best of pals in our early teens, melded together by petty larcenies too numerous to mention in this brief space.

The one time we got caught and placed on six months probation will have to suffice: We "did steal and take approximately 23 lightbulbs from the outdoor Christmas tree decorations of Arnold Pagel ... and did smash and destroy said bulbs."

We were 14 then. Shortly after that brush with the law, we went our separate ways. I went into sports. Mike went to work for his dad, a successful businessman. We both joined the Marines, separately, fulfilling an ambition we had developed together.

Now Mike was calling because our 50th class reunion was coming up, and he invited me to stop by en route to our hometown.

And so, two weeks ago, we got together. Over several beers and a plate of spaghetti, we discussed the divergent trails our lives had taken.

Mike, thrice married, now lived alone in a beautiful rustic home he built on 40 acres. After a career in the travel industry, he was utterly content to spend his days raising thoroughbred horses he raced at a track near Minneapolis.

I've never owned a gun, but Mike carried a pistol everywhere. He had another 15 or 20 rifles mounted on the wall of his study.

On this October afternoon, Fox News was on every TV in the house. In case I missed it, Mike told me he was extremely conservative. He had read enough of my stuff to know I wasn't. It didn't matter to either of us.

He said he would not be attending the high school reunion. I wasn't surprised. He had not attended any previous reunion.

A couple days later, we spoke again on the phone. I had played golf with old classmates and was preparing for a country club dinner. He had been cutting down brush and was going to grab something from the fridge.

He said he had had a great day. I said I had, too.

Different strokes, not so different folks.

ONLINE | For past columns, go to the Bestler page at MyrtleBeachOnline.com.
Contact BOB BESTLER at 222-7590 or bestler6@tds.net.

Ellie