my mom is leaving her boyfriend of 20 years. they just lost their house and she's currently apartment hunting for a single bedroom place. i have no "friends" there, but am friendly enough i guess with the townies where swinging through for a drink would be entertaining for about 20 minutes or so. but since my pal from childhood moved down here and we've hung out, there've been a few trips down memory lane. some things i completely forgot about and would have never again remembered. some names i wish i didn't remember but do. mannerisms. rumors. gossip. it's funny. like, a kitsch that you want to gag at but can't because you're a part of it.
one memory i forgot, but am grateful to have remembered, though is of harlo. i don't know if harlo is this guy's real first name or not (i think it is). i have no idea what his last name is, although im sure my mom could tell me. i think he was slightly off his rocker, not enough to have to live in a group home or anything, but just the type of guy who had a slight speech impediment and a wide grin on his face everytime you saw him.
as kids in junior high, we'd walk to the gas station across the bridge. this was seriously, our entertainment. "what do you want to do today?" "uhh, i guess we could go to bj petro and get a soda and some comics or something" "cool." then maybe push one another around in the laundromat carts. put tony schlafli in a dryer and turn it on. that kinda thing. but anyway. . . we'd stroll the 2 blocks or so to the gas station and there would be harlo, all smiles, thick framed square glasses (he'd be an ultra hip guy here in chicago), bib overalls. i always thought he was super old, i remember being maybe in 4th-6th grade thinking harlo was an old senile dude, but i dont think he really was all that old.
he'd always ring his bike bell and smile, "hi hi hi hi hi how'ya doin?" as kids, we'd want to taunt him but were too polite to openly do so, so usually the only conversation back would be along the lines of, 'hey harlo, what kinda bike you got there?' which would set him off in a tizzy of "schwinn schwinn schwiin, these the best bikes, oh yes yes yes yes gotta get a schwinn schwinn" and he'd nervously twitch, nod his head and twinkle his big magnified eyes at you. smiling the whole while. then he'd hop on his magical bicycle and ride off to main hill.
my pal ryan and i once made up a song about harlo. harlo rides again. it was fun. a nice little tribute to the town schwinn man. last time i was home last year, i walked to the gas station. it's no longer bj petro, but a marathon station. the pumps are no longer manual and you don't get served in your car anymore. there's credit card machines and to this day the townies still cuss at the beeping and don't understand how to operate the pumps. i got a redbull and some doritos. was heading home and then but who rings his bell at me and gives me the same sincere childlike smile? but mr. harlo schwinn himself.
that really made my day. memories like these are what make the world right.
(i just visited the official argyle, wisconsin community webpage. i'm visitor #87.)
http://www.argylewi.org/
