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The Best Man

There’s a story I tell about my friend, Mark.mark

I’ve always had a hard time making friends. It’s never been easy for me. I’m awkward and tongue tied and I can be kind of boring. Most of the friends I’ve made in my life, it’s because I sought them out. It’s because I found them interesting and made an effort to get to know them better.  This is true of very nearly every friend I have. In fact, I can only think of two people where that’s not true.

Mark was one of those people. He was someone who sought me out. He insinuated himself into my life. There’s nothing stranger for someone who’s struggled to make friends to suddenly find himself at the business end of attention. To this day, I don’t know if I would have sought him out, but I’ll be forever grateful that he took the initiative.

In 1987, as a senior in high school, I was cast as Snoopy in a community theatre production of YOU’RE A GOOD MAN, CHARLIE BROWN. This was a big deal. For a high school drama student, a community theatre show was the brass ring. It was the next step up. You were, to quote Steve Martin, somebody.

That was where I met Mark Wilson Scarborough. Mark was 11 years my senior, a well-known reporter for the local newspaper, and one of the smartest guys I’d ever met. As Snoopy, I shared much of my stage time with Mark, who played Charlie Brown. That alone should have been a natural segue to friendship.

But our friendship continued offstage. We spent many late nights in his apartment, him talking about the women he loved, me dreaming about becoming an actor. (Neither of us, it should be said, had much luck in these varied regards.)  He was an historian, an old soul in a young body, a clever writer, and kind to a fault.

Mark came into my life at a critical time. My “rebellious” years as a teen hit late, and Mark was there to give what guidance he could. He stood by me in the toughest of times. He helped me keep my head screwed on when there was a very real chance it could come off altogether.

Mark was the first non-family member I came out to. He was instantly supportive and offered encouraging words, knowing what I was about to embark on in letting others I loved know.

Even when our career paths took us in different directions, we always stayed in touch. When I got married to my wonderful husband in 2010, I asked Mark to be my best man (which I’d done for him when he’d gotten married years earlier). Just weeks before the wedding, he called to ask when the big day was. “It’s 10/10/10!” I yelled at him. “It’s impossible to forget. We picked that date so YOU would remember it!” (Did I mention he could be forgetful?) But he was there that special day and I couldn’t have imagined it without him.

The last ten years ago had not been kind to Mark. But no matter the problems—with his career or his love life—he soldiered on, tired smile and all.

Mark passed away unexpectedly on Monday. When my father called to tell me on Tuesday morning (my birthday, no less), I could hear he was choked up. I immediately assumed something had happened to my brother or sister. Hearing Mark’s name totally blindsided me.

I won’t whitewash history. Mark was an acquired taste. He could be forceful and stubborn and opinionated and for everyone who adored him and admired these qualities, someone else sneered at the mere mention of his name. His honesty could blister but his generosity was second to none.

It’s been a pretty tough week. Tomorrow, my husband and I are headed to Wisconsin for the funeral. They’re planning a “celebration of Mark’s life.” I really want to do that. I really want to celebrate this wonderful man who made such a difference in who I am, what I believe, and what I want to do with my life. It will be hard. But I owe him a celebration.

Some very lovely things are being said about Mark online. It’s a nice balance of fond remembrances and acknowledgment that he could be…a handful. (I think he’d like that.)

Of course, what I’ll always remember about Mark is that HE sought ME out. He was the first person I can remember who wanted to be my friend. No one else can claim that. And I’m really lucky to say that honor belongs to him.

Published in: on June 13, 2013 at 10:52 am  Comments Off on The Best Man  

Free short stories from amazing authors!

If you don’t know about The Bet, read about it here.

Caught up?  OK, now the spoils of said Bet.

I gave Andrew Smith the following title: “Journey, Crimson, Nightmare, Name.” He wrote this story.

Andrew gave the following title to Kimberly Pauley: “”The Druggist and the Apostrophe.” She wrote this story.

Kimberly gave the following title to Catherine Ryan Hyde: “Even Pigeons Can Sing.” She wrote this story.


Anyway. Enjoy.


PS–Please send good thoughts to Andrew Smith, who was forced to evacuate with his family this past weekend when a wildfire in California got a little too close to his backyard. He reports all are fine, his house is okay, but things feel a bit wonky at the moment.

Published in: on June 3, 2013 at 10:03 am  Comments Off on Free short stories from amazing authors!