At The Weenie Roast..by Michael

I was just driving along the country road taking in the sights and sounds of its serenity. A familiar hotel with a name long since forgotten had caught my eye. It was a place I spent one summer back in the 1950's. My two months vacation had a place at this unexpected stop had me check in for July and August. A lot of things remained the same even though they were some things that were different. My fifty year old body felt like a fourteen year old kid again as certain memories flooded my mind and heart. Like mom and dad winning at a bingo game and sharing their winnings with me, or an extra serving of fries to go along with a cheeseburger at dinner time. The next late afternoon had me walk to a baseball field where at one time I hit a home run and had our team win. It just then that I remembered her name. Michelle who sat beside me at a campfire just a hundred yards away where the counselors would set up a campfire for us to sit around. She was a first love where I regretted not asking for her phone number. Darkness fell and I walked the hundred yards to an old campground. Some twigs surrounded it as I lit the fire and wondered why. She sat next to me as the weenie roast began. We shared the hot dogs and kissed once again as I took out a pen and paper. She gave me a phone number which this time I called. The year didn't really matter, nor the age that this incident happened. All I can say is that there was an outdoor wedding at a place we had both been to before. Most of the guests sat around a campfire and fed each other from twigs that have been there before. A wonderful time we all shared together at the weenie roast....

 

 

 

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