Friend Specific

Refusing to be roped into discussing the Michael Vick, Brett Favre soap operas, as if you haven’t got enough of that crap already, those two topics do not warrant any prose from me. As Bruce Springteen said live before launching into a moving acoustic rendition of No Surrender, “this one’s for friendship.” Or lack thereof for that matter.
With all the technological advancements this century has put at our disposal, you’d think maintaining friendships would be simpler than ever. No more having to sit down with a pen and paper to try to accurately convey a precise emotional state to loved one too far away. No more having to wait until after six o’clock on a Sunday for the rates to go down so you can make that cross country call to a friend who’s moved, but certainly not forgotten. No more waiting for pictures to be developed so they can be sent to someone near and dear so as to keep them abreast of the latest happenings in your life. We can e-mail the latest news of our lives with those who care. We can sign up for phone plans that grant us more time than we could ever spend talking if we suffered from a severe case of insomnia. We can take pictures with our cameras and shoot them via the internet to whoever would be interested. And if the moment captured is particularly scintillating, causing us to immediately share the three-legged iguana taking a crap in our front yard with those in our diaspora posses, we can do so via our cellphones. Armed with all this knowledge and technology we now all have so many friends we can no longer go to work because we spend up to eighty hours a week keeping in touch. Not so. We have a ranking system, and a weeding out process that allows us to continue with what resembles a normal life.
There are many categories of friends. Everyone has at least one, if not several “lifelong friends.” These are the people you’ve been friends with since minimally, grade school. This group can be broken into differing levels of loyalty, and intensity. Sometimes you are so close with these friends that you refuse to move your families away from them. Or, when one moves, so does the other. They’re the person you’d push out of the way of an oncoming vehicle only to get struck yourself. This is the most exalted friendship status reserved for the truly rare friend. There can be variations within this level as well. These friends can move away, but the relationship remains extremely close. There are numerous weekly phone calls. Trips are made to one another’s homes. The main difference in this vein is that daily interaction does not take place face to face. Also, you may make friendships later in life that rival the ardor of the “lifelong” friend, the only difference is the length of time knowing one another. The best thing about these friends is that you revel in their company no matter what the circumstances, and for the most part they’ll always be there for you no matter what.
Then there are the friendships formed from “group interface.”This is a coming together due to a shared singular bond or common cause. Church friends, work friends, and friendships from joining a particular association fall into the “group interface” category. Occasionally, a “lifelong friendship” may develop from this type of relationship, but not as often as the less intense “keeping in touch” result. From the “group interface” faction, the level of friendship can vary greatly.
I belonged to the Pembroke Lakes Optimist Club for ten years where my son played baseball, and I coached and umpired. I was vice-president of the PTA for two years where my son went to middle school. I was a member of, and later vice-president of the Cooper City High School Baseball Booster Club. Like the irresponsible and immature individual I am, I have held numerous jobs over the course of my life. Sadly, very few relationships that flourished through constant interaction remained once I was no longer part of any of the former organizations, or places of employment.
You always say the standard “Let’s keep in touch,” or, the ever popular “I’ll call you, we’ll get together for lunch,” when it comes time for us to part ways, but nothing ever comes to fruition. Through my son’s baseball activities, there were many trips where we ate, slept, and partied with the other parents whom I had befriended, nearly all of what I once considered “close” relationships, have fallen by the wayside. All that remain are the smattering few token Christmas card contacts every year. Of what had to be three dozen people, wives and husbands, today I only speak to one, my son’s first baseball coach from 1993. And now his wife no longer speaks to me. The same may be said for the folks who sat in the same section as I did at Shea Stadium.
For five years we were as close knit as a group could be. Our common thread was our affection for the New York Mets. Even the bathroom attendant, Bennie Nesbitt, and our beer vendor Lorraine, all received Christmas cards with notes enclosed for those years. In 1992, I did not renew my tickets, and those relationships came to an abrupt halt. I considered these people my friends. We truly cared about one another, shared intimate moments and secrets, yet not a single contact, save one, since then. I made my way back to Shea for Opening Day in 1992. Lorraine now manned the beer station located behind home plate. I introduced my wife to her, and that was it. We exchanged pleasantries, reminisced a bit, and said our good-byes. Nearly all of the “friends” I made during my work career, I no longer keep in contact with, even though I have the means. I do not have a definitive answer for this, only excuses.
We may use the standard “we’ve grown apart” to absolve ourselves from maintaining older relationships. But, memories of those once forgotten, still rear their heads every now and then, only to be suppressed rather than make that phone call, or write that letter. We may ask ourselves “I wonder what so-and-so is up to these days” yet rarely take the time to find out. If we really wanted to know, it wouldn’t be too much trouble. You can search for them on Facebook.
Facebook has rekindled friendships from long, and not so long ago. However, even with this extraordinary networking tool, we still have a tendency to treat each other the same way we treat all our other relationships. Lengthy messages written to old friends to bring them up to date either go unanswered, or you get a token briefing back, never to hear from them again. Then you have the group of people who seem genuinely happy to get back in touch with you again, or that you’re interested enough to make them part of your daily interaction. This group is much smaller than the first I mentioned, but infinitely rewarding. My high school junior prom date and I frequently comment to each other. The sister of a “lifelong friend” and I exchange observations. A couple of other “friends” from my high school days share what’s on our minds via the magic of Facebook. The same is true for real friends of my son’s, who have been kind enough to “friend” me. Currently, I have one hundred and fifteen “friends” on Facebook. Maybe twenty percent really are.
Be it Facebook, e-mail, texts, or the good ol’ phone, perhaps most of those people who make up the various forms of relationships I’ve established over the years are not friends at all, but acquaintances. I assume part of the blame. A lot of responsibility comes with being a friend to someone, and I’m not always willing or able to put in what’s necessary. At my age, it takes a very long time to cultivate and maintain a friendship. Regardless of status, length of time knowing, infrequency of correspondence, I value and cherish each and every one. And as long as it’s alright with them, I think I’ll still call them friends, it makes me feel good.