I'm putting this here for several reasons, but mainly because I couldn't find the perfect card for him, and even if I had, I would not have sent it on time, because I'm not as good a friend as most of mine are.
I gave a brief history about Chris a while back. Check the archives. We met when we went to school together in Paris in 1988. TWENTY YEARS AGO. As I have said before, we became instant friends when we found a common interest in cutting others down or mocking them not only for our entertainment, but also to make ourselves feel superior. Of course, that was 20 years ago. We're way more mature now. (NOT!) He has been like a little brother to me since then.
He is the world traveler friend who always takes the time to send a postcard to our family, no matter where he is. Even from brief business trips. Now, one might think he sends these out of friendliness, but I know him well enough that he's not using them to say "Wish you were here;" he's saying, "Look where I am!" That's just the kind of guy he is. He is also the kind of friend who emails links to picture albums, mostly pictures of his adorable little kids, but also pictures of himself standing in front of or next to million-dollar cars, supposedly famous hockey players, or one of the seven wonders of the world.
I know him to spend outrageous amounts of money on things like ink pens and watches and pottery and cravats and jodhpurs. I have never understood his penchant for such things, and I must admit, I've sometimes questioned his sexuality because of it, especially with his attraction to (and I'll say his/her name here just once for you, Chris) Ann Coulter (whom I maintain is really a dude).
After we returned from Paris, I eventually lost track of all the American friends I made there. But Chris. Even though he was in upstate New York and I was in Texas, he made sure to stay in touch. I think he knew that I might be of value to him someday (namely, improving his overall stature in society). No offense there, Chris, on the "stature" remark. (He's about 5 foot 3, I think.) He has always been great about sending cards and calling and giving me a hard time about not reciprocating.
He puts effort into things that matter to him: his family, his traveling (and wanting to fill up every inch of every page of every passport with stamps even from countries you've never heard of), his (fanatical right wing) political views, and his friendships. A lot of people (myself, to name one) have lots of things that "matter" to them, but they aren't nearly so dedicated.
I knew he was a kind and thoughtful and generous friend all those years, but I never knew how kind and thoughtful and generous until early May of 2006. I think he was living in Pennsylvania at the time, or maybe he was already in Boston, I can't remember. Anyway, there I was in my parents' house at the reception after my dad's funeral service. I looked at all the familiar faces, some I hadn't seen since I was a child. My best girlfriends were there, my in-laws were there. I felt at peace and comforted to be surrounded by so much love. And just as I was feeling all grateful and somehow even joyful at such a sad time, I suddenly thought I had lost my mind. There was Chris. He had figured out where and when, made the trip on short notice, rented a car, and showed up just for that afternoon. I was being pulled in every direction that day. He understood. Told me he just came to give me a hug and before I knew it he was gone. I honestly don't know if I could do something like that for a friend who lived so far away.
So, sorry I didn't get a card in the mail, Chris. I know you'll not be surprised at that. I hope this makes up for it. I'll "try" to call today. Thanks for having the guts and patience to be my friend for so long. (Most drop off after a decade or so.) And thanks for being not only the one who inspires me to maintain a superiority complex with grace, but also for being my political nemesis, and this blog's number one (and perhaps only) fan. Give Erin and the babies hugs and kisses from me.
Happy Birthday.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Happy Birthday to my Blog's Biggest Fan
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4 comments:
as you know, i am someone who prides himself on his stoicism. linear thought has a logic and purity, and therefore and accuracy, which emotions tend to fog. they are therefore to be banished for the most part. i reserve the option of calling on them while in the midst of hugging my kids, seeing an F1 Ferrari 1-2 finish (preferably in person), and certain other moments where their judicious application is deemed appropriate. so it should mean a lot to you when i say that your post overwhelmed me.
i check your blog first thing every morning to see if you've posted overnight, so for an instant when i saw this i just thought "oh good, a new one". then the subject struck me, and from that moment until the final word it felt like time stopped, and i was floating in a warm, glowing bath of affection. i must have been, because when i emerged from reading it, the corners of my eyes were still wet. but i wasn't ashamed of that.
Thank you.
but i'm not short. i'm definitely at least 5'6". and a half. with shoes on. i just think the ground is lower where i stand. and besides, i compensate for it in OTHER WAYS... like my huge, foot-long wit, the massive girth of my charm, and my big, throbbing, veiny intellect!
You disgust me. I take back everything I said. You really know how to spoil something sweet by injecting obscene references and pounding lame double entendres into it. Good Job!!!
"big, throbbing and veiny" was refering to my brain! do you think you might need some introspection to determine why you always see dirty meanings in things?
Of course it's your brain. You're a dude. Isn't that where y'all keep it?
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