It's an interesting topic -considering how often these days the term BFF is bandied about. Many folks seem to claim a new BFF as often as they grocery shop. Kinda makes me wonder on which aisle the BFFs are stocked. For a spice one do you look near the salsa???
I have several friends I have had since I entered 5th grade. I've said several times in previous posts that my friends back in my school days essentially saved me from a life of crime - seems I am somewhat genetically disposed to that thanks to Paul Wesley Brooke - aka my sperm donating birth father. That statement is quite true, no further discussion of it will be forthcoming and you'll simply have to take my word for it. Foremost among those friends is a fine fellow I usually refer to as Architect Dave. Why? Another Dave flies for US Air/American and so they distinguished by their occupations - Pilot Dave and Architect Dave. Architect Dave has also acquired a partner in the best friend business - his wife Pat - often a reader and commenter on this very blog. Dave and Pat provide an unbreakable link to my past, and an anchor to my present. Dave and I spent a couple of years goofing off after high school, usually running the roads in his British Racing Green MGs - first a Midget and latter an MGB. We put a lot of miles on his cars. Now he travels via his company airplane and of course on the good ship Lillian Belle. Needless to say I get to live vicariously via the adventures of Dave and Pat. Feel free to check out the Lillian Belle blog listed on the right - there're some great photos and tales of one of those adventures. This was one of our road songs all those years ago
Later in life, while perusing music board discussions, I happened upon an individual I'll call Hockeymom. She is uncomfortable with seeing her name on the Web and far be it from me to go against her wishes. Plus, getting hit with a hockey stick smarts and even though she lives in another state I'm not taking a chance. She's Hockeymom because 2 of her kids played hockey, one well enough to have been a contender for a spot on the US women's team years back and she spent years ferrying them to games and practyices. Her minor character flaw in that regard is that she's a Chicago Blackhawks fan. They have won the Cup twice recently and regularly beat up on my beloved Los Tiburones.
Thanks to email hockeymom and I became best friends. We talked and talked. We shared family triumphs and tragedies. We whined to each other, yelled at each other. Her father was a hero of hers - rightly so - and I was "with" her in his last year. She has been with me every step of the way with Lynn's ordeal. Not too shabby considering the mileage between us - shortened by email and the phone. I can always count on her to call me out when I get stuck on dumb. Sometimes I think she delights in that.
She also loves old movies. The older the better. We share a love of crash, bang wallop 60s rock and she was an accomplished French horn player - here's a snippet of a piece I listen too thanks to her influence
Time and family circumstances have reduced our contact a lot in the last year but not our bond.
I confess to feeling somewhat guilty discussing these folks herein. Nothing I say can do justice to how much they mean to me for a myriad of reasons. And I'd be remiss not to mention my new found friends in the LBC - the term synchronicity immediately springs to mind.
That's a quick look at this week's topic. Check out the rest of the gang over there on the right.