Well, I tell people I’m not sentimental, I mostly believe that. Kathy, let me see, oh yes, here it is:
“Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be, because sooner or later, if you are posing, you will forget the pose, and then where are you?”
Her senior quote. Fanny Brice. A funny lady, of all people.
It’s not often you’ll catch me looking at family photo albums, let alone old high-school yearbooks. I can’t remember the last time I opened this.
That’s what I remember best about her. It’s probably the reason why we got along so well. She was always genuine, always herself.
She was a straight shooter. If she thought you were being an idiot, she told you so. But it wasn’t worded like a put-down, had nothing to do with any kind of superior attitude. Always just simply stated.
If she said, “That’s dumb, David,” she said it in a way that made you think the rest of the opinion, if she said it aloud, would be, “But I know you know that.” Not, “You’re dumb and that’s all there is to it.”
Roosevelt High School and Lualuna Academy were and still are big rivals. Public versus private school. One time we snuck onto the Lualuna campus. It was maybe 2:00 a.m., and I told her I was going to climb up on top of the locker room roof overlooking the pool and jump off. It’s about a three-story drop, the height of the locker room plus the position of the pool downhill from it.
“That’s a thirty-foot fall,” she said. “You want to break your neck?”
I had no fear of doing that. I’d made equivalent dives. At the Natatorium pool, for instance. The deep end of the Lualuna pool was just as deep as the Natatorium.
But again, it was the way she said it. Simply, matter-of-factly. No question, I wasn’t going to do that, even though I knew I could.
Actually, it turned out to be timely advice, too, because one of the Lualuna army of security guards happened to walk to the pool right at that moment and plant himself for a smoke break. He’d have caught me for sure.
Kathy has a great sense of humor. Thanks to me. No really. She didn’t know how to laugh when I first met her. She was so serious I thought she might be carved out of stone. I never did get to know her parents very well. Strict, for sure. Maybe too much so.
Anyway, I got her smiling. Made it my mission. Loosen her up. Undo all the ties, all the strictures that had gradually bound her up.
Why did we never date? That’s a good question. I spent more time with Kathy than I did with any of the women I went out with in high school.
Here’s what she wrote in my yearbook:
My dearest David: Although we’ll be heading our separate ways after graduation, I know I’ll always have a kindred spirit in you. The ties we’ve made over the past three years will keep us bonded at the funny bone. If I get homesick, I’ll tell myself one of your lame riddles or goofy jokes. That’ll laugh me back into good spirits.
But don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I could memorize all of them. I’ve been writing them down for three years (Hmmm, maybe you should flatter yourself). Yup, I’ve got The Complete David Chan Book of Humor manuscript all set. Just let me know when you want to publish it.
Anyway, you take good care at Hawai‘i U. If you fall in love, be careful. One of these days, you’ll give away your heart. Big time. And when you do, because I know you so well, I don’t think you’ll ever get it back.
You’re going to fall hard, Funny Man. No joke.
With fondest love and aloha,
Kathy (The only person who will ever laugh at your dumbest jokes)
Huh. I wonder what I wrote in hers? Probably something profound like, “Have a super summer.”
What a bummer.
Lanning Lee 