A warm welcome to each and every one of you who have taken the time out of your busy lives to join us today. This open dialog exists today in part because of many of you, who expressed sadness at Colonial Fleets’ closing, and hopeful wishes of the return of this unique gathering place. The other part is due to the kind hearts of the owner and admins (Muffit’s comment
), without whom CF would never have been envisioned.
Those of you who know me, know my penchant for analogous musings, and I thought today if you didn’t mind I would share a brief one with you that is much the mirror of where we gaze back on ourselves today.
Many a musing found my older brother much the dreaded troublemaker, but I would be remiss if I did not tell you his other side, the truly big hearted young man he became. For you see, by High School’s deeper pool of burgeoning emotions, he had become the Will Rogers of secondary school: he never met anyone he didn’t like. He tried ever so hard to make friends with everyone; with a silly smile, half shy, half hoping, and the importunity to persist till friendship had been won.
But one boy did not bend to this fond earnestness, in fact the silly smile he found offensive. He wanted nothing of my brother, and made it very clear. But innocent hearts do not see the danger, and each new try brought anger’s mercury up another line. Till one day after school, when cold hands strive to catch an oblong ball in armor of white, his final gleeful shoulder pat on this boy was just too much. The boy ran madly at him from behind, and clipped my brother’s legs beneath him. And those of you who know your “super” game, know well how dangerous such a tackle is. The hospital found a new tenant that day.
Some days later, an inquiry was launched and boy and brother were brought before the powers that be. To his assailant’s chagrin, my brother denied the boy’s intent, and said instead it was just an accident at play. And would you know, that after that day, they became as fast of friends as any ever were.
Today we meet again to try and heal open wounds. And reconcile the love we have for BSG, toward those who make up its heart. Be frank and kind, and willing to bend, just like my brother’s legs so long ago.
Affectionately,
Muffit and the Admins of Colonial Fleets
