Pointless Lament

I would like to tell you how things went last night for my big birthday night, but I anticipated in advance that I would be in no shape to write something right now. In all probability, I am hastily trying to recover in time for my plans for this evening. Maybe tomorrow I'll talk about last night, which would push any account of tonight to two days from now. Anyway, let's not sully this time with take of schedules and maybes. Let's "live in the now".

It gets harder to see my friends all the time. This is something I may have written something about before, but it's an ongoing thing. Some friends are constantly busy with performances. The only way to see them, and this is not so new, is is to be there for their performance either as a spectator or as a fellow performer. It is a powerful career motivator to know that you must stay busy working on your "craft" or else not see your friends. The alternative is to spend all your discretionary income on their shows.

Unwanted Ride

Something that will undoubtedly cast me in a negative light is my belief that I am sometimes, in accepting a ride home from a friend, doing them a favor rather than receiving one from them. Of course, I always appreciate the kindness and generosity shown to me by others, although I am all too often remiss in my responsibility of showing them how I appreciate it. I like to think that I turn out a thank you here and there.

I do get a bit embarrassed about being done favors by others. I really would just as soon manage things by myself whenever it is practical. I make a point of not asking for a ride unless it is extremely necessary or so easy for the person to give that it is as if they are not doing anything out of the ordinary at all. It is otherwise not at all worth the impact on my relationship with that person, or the entry in my mental ledger of "favors owed". There are many such entries.

Charity Case

It's no secret that I don't drive. I take public transportation and I ride my bicycle. I get rides from friends when it is convenient to them and necessary to me, but I do try to avoid leaning on them too much. I fear terribly the prospect of being seen as the moocher of rides, the indigent malcontent (if that's quite the word I'm looking for). Sometimes I find that very easy, as many people take no notice of someone who's not getting into their own car to leave a place.

Sometimes people notice too well. This is, I guess, a good problem. Some friends of mine are well aware of how I get around, and it seems to worry them terribly. They look on my mode of transportation as I would look on someone who travels exclusively by hitchhiking. That would horrify me, and I would start busting my ass trying find that person any other way to get where they're going. Some people act that way with me.

"One, Two, Freddie's Coming For You..."

I have at least one more thing to say about that pole competition, or at least about something tangentially related. I want to stress that I appreciate how some people - most people - have real jobs that start in the morning and chew up their energy at a rapid rate so that evenings out are a dicey proposition five nights a week if not more. I respect their way of life and don't want to ridicule them for something they probably don't like and can't change.

Still, it can be funny. A friend who attended the show was, I gather, in the grips of a similar situation. Really, she was a trooper. Though terribly tired, she was good enough to come out for a good time. That was a sacrifice, entertaining as the evening was. She got through it, this hard-working friend, but not without her fatigue constantly being betrayed by yawns. It got to be rather comical, and I'm sorry to say that I could not help myself from making fun.

Might I Go

I founded out a number of days ago that a friend I see seldom these days was set to perform at an open mic in my neighborhood. The open mic was, regrettably, set to take place right during a prior engagement of mine. I couldn't bear to miss it though, and so I pushed the other thing forward and rushed out right afterward. I'm quite glad that I did, for it was a worthwhile experience in a number of ways.

The open mic was at a nearby establishment that one might call a cafe. They mainly promote their pies, which I gather are both of sweet and savory varieties. As I've been attempting a frugal lifestyle lately, I resolved only to get something to drink. I wasn't much for the idea of coffee so late in the evening as 9 o'clock, but I did like the idea of getting tea after being advised that this place does tea right. They did not have my first choice, but the one I was recommended worked out nicely.

Like Flies

A friend of mine is getting married. Such events mark time, and so I got to thinking about how many friends have been married so far. I've only been to so many personally. There would be three that I can think of with this fourth one to come. There are some others that I did not make it to for one reason or another. I'm sure I've gone into this before, but it's unsettling to reach the point where the timing of the wedding is unremarkable.

The first wedding I can think of attending was remarkable in that the couple were perhaps young to be married. The ones since then have each taken place at a more and more natural time in the lives of the couple. It's upsetting to think that it makes perfect sense that they should be getting married, and less sense that the rest of us should not be. I guess I must have as much a biological clock as anybody, considering the feelings stirred up.

I Cooked It!

I've made it well known that I'm no good hand in the kitchen. There may be one or two things that I can make, but I avoid doing so if I can and resort to the assembling of multiple ingredients with little enthusiasm. Even some single ingredient things are too much for me to manage, and most methods of cooking an egg fall into that category. As Eastwood said in one film of his or another, "A man's got to know his limitations."

Something that is tricky for me is steak. I certainly cannot manage to cook a steak to any specific level of "done-ness" with accuracy and reliability. I have no interest in even trying without some kind of expert on hand to keep an eye on things (and I naturally prefer this person to be an attractive, unattached lady if possible). The other day, I bought a steak meaning to cook it along with a friend who had likewise bought some cut of meat destined for the grill.

Wanna Do Something?

I never have felt popular. When I was young, I felt profoundly uncool and out it. Even now that I have kind of upped my game and found the right people, I still see myself somewhere in the less social end of what is an exceptionally social group. So it is that I am about as surprised as I am pleased any time that people wind up doing things because I thought it up. As far as those things go, I'm more a joiner than a starter.

The other day, I noticed a bumper crop of good-looking movies at the cheap theater. There was some interest in the idea when I brought it up, but no action on the day when tickets are half price. The next day I was about resigned to the idea of going it alone, but my interest waned as the time approached, and I though of staying home to watch something. Some kind of fortune intervened, however, and that did not come to pass.

I Really Want To Go

I've said what a hard time I have saying goodbye at the end of the evening. This is when everyone's planning on going home, and people are one by one peeling away after saying their goodbyes to friends who are gracious and understanding. These are not people putting up any kind of resistance, and yet separating from them remains a tall order for me. It's just a matter of cutting off a line of conversation before it reaches maturation.

Imagine when the people I'm trying to say goodbye to really don't want me to go and try to stop me. If I were drunk and they were trying to keep me from getting in my car and driving away, they would employ physical force. I would then be grateful, not just for having my life saved, but for not having to suffer the far worse force of ridicule and sarcasm which one must face in order to part ways with friends insistent on continuing the good times.

No Coinky-Dink, I Think

Many of my friends live in my neighborhood or spend a good amount of time there for one reason or another. I believe that I've said this in the past, or I think I might have. I have been thinking about how it still was a coincidence that I would bump into them, or that I would ever in the past have seen people I wasn't expecting to anywhere. Without having communicated my plans to them, how could an encounter be by anything but chance?

That makes it seem special when that's the case, but I don't know if that can truly be the case, or rather I should say that I could never know for sure that it is the case. The culprit is of course technology, or is it me? Technology is really only the tool. It's these social networking websites that are all now imploring us to tell the world where we are. For a number of reasons, we probably shouldn't. Thieves will know we're out, and advertisers get more help in targeting us, just to name a couple reasons.

A Record?

I have said plenty of times that I walk a lot and that many friends live in my neighborhood. I believe I have already connected the two points to observe that I often encounter those friends by coincidence while engaged in my own business. It is always delightful and sometimes an inconvenient annoyance. As often as these encounters happen, they seldom crop up much in a narrow window of time. Sometimes they do, though.

I recently had one of those times. This will be one of those things that is of interest to no one but me, but I imagine there is little risk for this blog in pandering to that very specific demographic. What happened is that when I left the apartment to visit the library (an excursion you will recall from yesterday), I bumped into a neighbor with whom I'm acquainted. There is naturally no surprise in a surprise meeting with a neighbor, so I saw nothing in that. On I went with my day.

Close, Personal Friend

Some people that I consider friends I tend to see on television as much as I see them in person. It remains a strange feeling, but it's a fact that some people I know are at the very least moderately known by the public. Don't misunderstand me: I'm not rubbing shoulders around the clock with the very rich and famous, and the people I describe aren't generally my most intimate friends. They're people I know and who do greet me by name rather than looking at me blankly when I greet them.

This is one of those things where you fantasize about something happening, what it will be like and what you'll do with it. Then it happens, and you realize that it's not really like you thought. Someone who is to most people some character in a show or commercial is to me just some guy, and so it's more strange than amazing and cool. You have to get over this condition they have, not enjoy it. For my part I try to avoid making something of it unless it's very germane to what I'm saying.

Parting Is Such Sustained Suffering

It's interesting how those who are one's friends in general can be one's enemies in particular matters. There will be those who will gladly die for you unless the sacrifice is necessary because you didn't like 'Freaks And Geeks'. Most friends will turn on you when you withhold yourself from them for any reason, even be it pure necessity.

I have written before about saying goodbye either in an ordinary social situation or in advance of a long period of separation. Each of those is difficult for me, but distinct from both is the goodbye said to someone who is hostile to the idea of one's leaving. Added to the necessity of suppressing my constant desire to keep the good times going is the challenge of confrontation, which may be of a jesting nature in part, but which is also in part serious. It's tough.

Room For Friendship

It's a curious thing to me what people think there is or could be between two people. What I mean is that in a community such as mine where just about everyone knows everyone else to some degree, it's interesting what the reaction is when someone finds out that two people are roommates. The way they respond would make it sound like the two are a couple and not merely sharing an apartment. This comes up plenty considering few of us are doing so well that we can afford to live alone but not so well that we are married or have live-in significant others of some kind.

In the two years that I lived with the guy who got me into all the improv and all, people never failed to be incredulous when told that he and I lived together. I guess it seemed that we had so little in common that we were bound to clash too much to peacefully coexist. It's true that there was some discord, but probably no more than the usual. For announcements of other groupings, the surprise was of a different nature, and more seemed to reflect a belief that it would be better known if true but was eminently possible.

Pull The Trigger?

It's interesting to me how the social networking websites that have come to dominate the internet have affected the mechanics of our relationships. With the exceptions of marriages and committed romantic relationships of an informal nature, the ties that bound us once were largely unspoken. Two people were friends then only because they both thought so, and sometimes one person thought they were more so than the other.That could fly because there was nothing in writing to contradict it. How different things are now.

It's like marriage certificates for mere platonic friendships. If one person gets the idea that they are friends with someone who doesn't think so, a rude awakening is coming to the naif in question. For me it has gone both ways. Like many, I have struggled to integrate new technology with the social rules I've learned or conceive of new rules to deal with it. You used to see somebody one, twice and then a few more times, slowly becoming more familiar until you realized they were your friend. Now it's a thing that happens in the blink of an eye officially against the same slow progress. When do you extend that official offer?

Old Acquaintances

I went home to Arizona for the holidays. Naturally the purpose was to be with my family, and I spent the bulk of the time with them, but I do my best to see friends when the opportunity presents itself. Regrettably, my friends from the Phoenix area have long ago scattered, and few remain in the area on a year-round basis. I do my best to see them. As for the rest, I just have to hope that they are coming home for the holiday and will be in town when I am.

It's a remarkable experience to see old friends after a while. An ordinary 'Hello' is inadequate, and a handshake or hug of normal strength doesn't seem to fit the bill either. When you're that glad to see someone, you have to just about kill them showing it. You have to be downright abusive verbally, or at least it is often like that with me. In a joking tone, the most vicious and disparaging things are said. I guess that's what may be meant by 'killing with kindness'. We're a peculiar type, my friends and I. Naturally we have deep affection, but this very odd way of showing it.

What Do You Say To The Subway?

I take public transportation as my primary conveyance. Few people as a percentage of the whole do so, and I can appreciate that for many it's not a realistic option. I maintain however that at least some amount of the time it is suitable for all. This is born out by the experiences I have had riding a bus or train with friends who do not do so very often. The scenarios that give rise to such a broach of routine are these: the person's car is out of commission; the person considers the destination to be too much a hassle to park near. People frequently seek me out in at such times, as I am known to be the resident authority.

It's a disruption to my routine, albeit a happy one. Seldom having any company on sometimes long rides, I delve into books and my phone. I get a lot of my reading done this way, and some amount of my communication (texting, not calls in such a noisy spot). Naturally all that gets thrown out the window when I'm with someone on the subway. I say the subway because while I've gone with people on the subway numerous times, I have done so really only once on a bus, which does not attract the well-to-do rider with nearly as much success.

Old Friends Bygone

I think that there are interesting tipping points in life. I always have been fascinated by the median center of population. It's an interesting concept. The Census looks at population distribution across the country, and determines the spot east, north, south and west of which there are equal numbers of people. That point started out in Maryland during the 18th century, steadily moving west. Presently it is in eastern Missouri. The continental divide is interesting, too. It's a line that runs from Alaska southeast through Canada and the United States into Mexico. It's divides the watersheds that drain water into the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans. Crossing it during family road trips from Phoenix to Gainesville, Florida always bore mentioning. There's an intangible divide that I give a lot of thought to these days. When you get to a certain age, I think you realize that you are out of contact with as many friends as you are currently in contact with. It's not unique to anyone.

Everyone drifts out of contact with some people. Sometimes it's when the way by which they know them expires. No longer being classmates spelled the end of many friendships with me, as did either they or I moving away. It's a similar case for all my friendships which may at least be described as idle. I think I may have in the past observed that in all respects, you can't go home again. You can't revisit the past with the same results. It's all changed, and old friends are mostly like that. It's like if two banks of a river somehow radically shifted their lines and contours. The old bridge just couldn't cover the gap anymore. I'm not sure if that happens or not, but it helps my line of reasoning considerably if it does. I don't know that my modest but loyal readership has a strong background in civil engineering, but if so, bear with me when I veer into territory unfamiliar.