A LIKELY STORY: JAMES AND THE GIANT DOSE OF PEACHY KARMA

I have decided that my good-luck friend James might have been the model for "Forrest Gump."

On Saturday, Lori and I spent a pleasant evening visiting an old high-school friend of mine and his lady friend. I still manage to see James about twice a year despite the fact that he changes addresses as often as someone whose face frequents post-office posters.

We had dinner and the food was nice, if not overpriced. Each couple spent about $30 and I just had a sandwich and a beer. The women chatted while James and I watched the final 1-2-3 strikes you're out at the final old ball game of the season on a big-screen TV.

James said he was glad the Braves lost because they beat the Cards in the playoffs. To me, that only meant both teams could have probably beaten St. Louis, but who knows.

After dinner and light conversation at home, James and I ended up on the balcony reliving the real or imagined good old days as old friends tend to do.

We had mixed a couple of stiff drinks and James commented that the only things missing were stogies. Very adult, right? It's funny how feeling so adult is actually so asinine.

It reminded me of the days when we were roommates. We would sit and talk about which girl we couldn't live without (that week) or how we hated bagging groceries and, by the way, wouldn't it be great if we could scrounge up enough money for a 12-pack?

Anyway, after tiring of the past, talk turned to current situations. I told James that I still enjoy being part of a daily record of events and that the first four months of my marriage have been successful ones.

When last we spoke, James had just quit a great job with a package-delivery company making twice what I do. In fact, he and Renee had both quit their jobs and moved to Memphis with no jobs waiting and no idea how they would get by.

It was no surprise to me, that's just James. That's how he works, that's how his mind works. And oddly enough, much to my chagrin, it always works out for him.

This time was no exception, he told me. He had answered an ad in the newspaper, interviewed with 100 other people and was selected to be the foreman in a warehouse making $400 a week.

Not bad for a man who decided he was too cool for school.

He told me Renee had found a job somewhere making good money, too. I'd say his luck was catching but I'm proof that it's not.

He's done it several times before. James never has a job waiting when he quits the job he has grown bored with. He never finds a job where he's going until after he's a resident there.

But that's the thing. Things always pan out for him. He knows it, too. When he decides to quit a job and move across the country, there is no worry in his mind that he might not find a job. He knows he will, the epitome of arrogance if it wasn't true.

While to most of us, this sounds idiotic at worst and optimistic at best, he loves life. Today, he might be called irresponsible but they would have called him a free spirit in 1969.

He's always been like that. When he would dump a gorgeous woman, another was lined up to take her place. When he would have no job, he still managed to have money.

It's often been said of James that he doesn't have a care in the world. I think that is more true of him than anyone I've ever met.

The bottom line is, I've always kind of envied that about James. He is a free spirit and he is happy.

I'm happy too, and along with that I'm responsible. All of us can't have James' luck or karma or whatever it is, but it would be nice to live without worry, if just for a little while.

~Scott Moyers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.