Sunshine

There’s nothing like some sunshine, blooming flora, and a coupla’ little kids to make a guy believe in love again.

It was such a jam packed weekend. I don’t even know where to start. The theme was blue sky, fresh air, flowers and babies. I mean, what else is there? What could be better?

I sat in Central park yesterday eating a deli sandwich with a friend who’s known me since I was fifteen. Seventeen years later, she assures me, I am fundamentally the same person. That’s good, right?

I hitched a ride to Ridgefield, CT, this morning for a picnic with some friends who’ve known me since Syracuse (they’re first date was one of my shows!). Eleven years later — through all the incarnations: Smokey Junglefrog (raincoat and knit cap), Benjamin Wagner Deluxe (vinyl pants and nail polish), and the most real version of me yet, the singer-songwriter/journalist (jeans and a dress shirt) — they’ve stuck with me. Even when I flaked, Samantha and Seth kept in touch. God bless ’em. Their children are scrumptious. And the Connecticut air was clean and clear. I even got a little sunburned.

Tonight I saw ‘Kill Bill: Vol. 2′ with a friend who’s known me since I was, well, 30-years-old. The film — I don’t have the energy for a full dissertation — was about, well, blue sky and babies. It wasn’t about vengeance. It was about love.

What else is there?

Kinda’ makes a guy believe again.