Friends
I mentioned in my last post that I've been away from social media-- my blog and Facebook in particular --for the last eight months. I said I had my reasons. I said I wasn't sure I wanted to be back. I'm not very comfortable around people, even less so in forum where I can't see their faces or hear their voices. I need to look into a person's eyes to know whether they care, whether they're telling the truth. But my instincts (my spirit guide?) suggested it was time to give it a try, so I'm giving it a try. For a while.
I am not the kind of person who makes friends easily. I am not one who turns heads when I enter a room. I am the kind of person, it seems, who has a quiet impact on the people I meet. They don't notice me until I'm gone. And that's okay. My ex-wife always used to say that I am the kind of person who craves attention and "attaboys," but that when they come I don't want them. I run from the spotlight.
Anyway, during my time here in Who-Knows-Where-Land, I wrote my eleventh book, You Are Here (Life Hacks Your School Won't Teach You And You Really Need To Learn). I don't know why, I guess it was what was left of the teacher in me, but I felt a strong need to write a non-fiction book to kids-- middle schoolers in particular --about all the "life hacks" they need to know and that the schools don't teach them. I suppose this grew from the seeds I'd been planting in my classes for years, trying to open the eyes of my young and impressionable charges to the realities of Life that all too often even their own parents won't teach them and don't even want them to know about.
Returning to Facebook reminded me of one of the most important life hacks (lessons) all of us, not just the kids, need to learn: who and what is a friend? Interesting, I think, that as I was attempting to reconnect with many of the people who had been my "Friends" on Facebook last year, sending the all-too-familiar Friend Request, many of them failed to respond this time. I didn't have that many to begin with, maybe 50 or 60, because I tend to be fairly selective, but if you find me on Facebook right now you'll see I'm sitting at about 23. Which is probably 15 more than the number of genuine friends I have there anyway.
So, you'll indulge me and if you have the patience to read on, I'd like to share with you the section from the You Are Here. It's about friends and friendship.
B F F? My Big Fat Foot!
I don’t quite know how to tell you this, at least in a way that you’ll believe me, but human kindness is in short supply. Your BFF is rarely what you think; have no such misconception. She probably isn’t going to be your Best Friend Forever. You’ll have beaten the odds if she’s still your friend by the time you’re juniors in high school. Don’t get me wrong now, some friendships are born to last, but not many. Keep in mind, too, that there are friends, and then there are Friends. Do you know what I mean?
The sad truth is that most of the people you’ll meet in your life will never rise to the level of Friend. They’ll be acquaintances, co-workers, and colleagues; they’ll be teammates, roommates, and housemates; they’ll be neighbors and associates. But they won’t be your friends. Those wild and crazy people you’re surrounding yourself with now, the ones who seem to have all the answers and snap witty comebacks like giant rubber bands— you know the ones I mean —they’re not going to be there for you when it counts. You can bet on it.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, You’re wrong! Anna Sue and I have known each other since we were in the first grade; we do everything together. We like the same clothes, we like the same foods and the same music. We sleep over at each other’s houses. We even like the same boys. We go everywhere together. You just don’t understand.
You’re thinking, Austin and I live next door to each other. I can go into his house anytime I want and raid his family’s refrigerator, and he can do the same in my house; my dad is our soccer coach, and his dad is our baseball coach. We’re competitive, I mean really competitive. Everything to us is a contest, and that’s what makes us so close: we’re like brothers in arms. If somebody bullies up on Austin, I’m there for him; I’ve got his back, and he’s got mine.
Got it. You’ve known each other since Moses was in diapers, and you’ll still be riding each other’s bikes when the sun collapses in on itself a few billion years from now. Friendships don’t ever play out, right? No one ever changes. Friends don’t move away, interests and attitudes stay the same. After all, this is your BFF.
Again, I’m not saying that two people can’t remain friends for life— it happens, sure. I’m just saying that it’s rare. Ask your parents how many BFFs from middle school they’re still in touch with. Ask them how many high school friends they still hang out with. If they’re lucky, they may know the whereabouts of one or two high school friends— they might even hear from them once in a blue moon —but most of the people they knew in junior high school and high school? Ghosts. Memories. Buried deep in the past. To resurrect them calls for a 10 or 20 or 30 year high school reunion (“I’m going to my junior high school reunion,” said no one ever), and just about anyone who’s ever attended his or her high school reunion will tell you that it wasn’t the revival of old and lasting friendships. It was a sideshow. They went to see what became of everybody else. How fat had Kenny Margolin gotten? What boring and purposeless career was Sherry Chambers mired in? Who did Kelly Fannin marry and how long has she been divorced? Or they went to show off how successful they’ve been compared to all those other losers in their graduating class. Sometimes they go just to see if their favorite teacher, or their most dreaded one, is still alive.
Consider the story of Janis Joplin.
Janis Joplin was a famous blues rock singer of the 1960s. She was one of just a handful of women in rock and roll in those days, and on August 16th,1969, she played before an estimated crowd of 400,000 people at the historic Woodstock Music and Art Fair in upstate New York.
Two years earlier, Janis and her band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, had played at the now-legendary Monterey Pop Festival where they were discovered and signed to a record contract by Columbia Records President Clive Davis.
What this has to do with friends is this. When Janis attended Thomas Jefferson High School in Port Arthur, Texas, she didn’t have many friends in school. Because she chose to think and live “outside the box,” the other students teased and ridiculed her, what we would call “bullying” today. To hear her tell it, “They laughed me out of class, out of town, and out of the state.” So, ten years later, Janis went to her 10-year high school reunion. When television host Dick Cavett asked her if she was going to have a lot to say to her old classmates, her answer was simple and straightforward: “I’m gonna laugh a lot, man.”
See, the thing is, what most of us call a friend is really no friend at all. A “friend” on Facebook, for example. I know lots of people who have three, four, five hundred “friends” on Facebook, but come on. Most of us don’t even know that many people. It’s an easy thing to “friend” someone on social media, but is that person a Friend? Often, they’re relatives, or they’re people we know from school or work or church or wherever, but just as often they’re nothing more than a name. You get a “friend” request on Facebook from somebody you don’t even know, but they’re acquainted with someone you do know, so you accept their request. It’s a numbers game. How many “friends” can I collect? I know people who’ve racked up 900 or 1000 so-called “friends.”
Another kind of friend is a friend you don’t have to know personally. Radio and television stations have money drives, charities have fund drives and so refer to their donors as the “friends of WREK” or “friends of the Santa Fe Opera.” You become a “friend” by merely opening your wallet.
Yet another definition of “friend” can be a mere designation, as in “Are you friend or foe?” If you’re on my side, you’re my “friend;” if you’re not my “friend, you must be my enemy.”
In an even broader sense, you can be a friend by simply belonging to the same group or organization or political party as someone else. A “friend” in this case is pretty much synonymous with “comrade.”
Are there any deep, abiding emotional connections associated with any of these kinds of “friends?” Not in my book.
So if it’s none of these, what is a “friend?” Even more, if I claim to have a BFF, how do I know he or she is a “Best” Friend “Forever?” Or, as I like to call him or her, an SBF: a Sempiternal Best Friend (remember: learning to be smarter; look up “sempiternal”).
Returning to the reddit.com well, I asked the question and found these responses:
A friend is someone I can talk to without issue. Have laughs, share memes, delve into deep conversations, or even just check on one another every so often. It's the communication that matters.
Someone you can trust with most if not all your secrets, who stands by you when you need them and cares like a sibling, basically a true friend is someone who is like a sibling to you.
Someone you can talk to, someone who you feel comfortable with, a person who you can always depend on and they can always depend on you. Someone who is a light in your life and you’re the same to them.
On a personal note, I would die for them if I had to.
Beautiful descriptions all, wouldn’t you agree?
One description I often come across is that friends— true friends —each contribute equally to the relationship. If it becomes lopsided, or worse, one-sided, and you’re getting nothing in return, it may be time for you to examine the friendship for its value to you as a person. Do you still feel you can talk to your friend about anything without judgment or criticism? Do you still laugh at the same things? Cry at the same things? Can you still depend on your friend in any situation to keep your secrets, to defend you, to always have your best interests at heart? Just as important, can he or she depend on you? Do you think of this person as someone you place above yourself?
You know, sometimes you can put in most or all of the effort into a friendship, you can extend invitations, send texts and messages, offer your time and talents, plead and ask questions, and where once you got warm and welcome responses, now you get only an echo in return. It happens more often than you think.
Too often we refer to the people around us, the people we associate with, as “friends” when they’re really not friends at all. You may be devoted to them, but they’re not invested in you. Make one mistake, say one dumb thing, and they’ll kick you down the street like a can.
Ask your yourself: Is my friend jealous of me? Does he have a short fuse? Does he think more of himself than he does of me and other people? Sure, he may have great hair and be ultra popular, and my social stock is high as long as I’m seen hanging out with him, but does he support me in all that I do? Does he cheer for me whether I win or lose? Does he congratulate me if I get an “A” on the test and he gets a “B”? If he and I are competing against each other, does he play fair or does he cheat? Is he a good sport, regardless of the outcome?
My Aunt Jane once said to me, “Everybody needs plenty of alone time, but not too much lonely.” Does your best friend give you space? Does he know when to leave you alone and when to stick around? Or does he cling to you? Is he unwilling or unable to let you do your own thing without his constant company? Conversely, does he always need to have you around so that you feel obligated to say yes every time he asks you to go do something? A true BFF will understand and not get upset if you change your mind at the last minute or decline an invitation simply because you you need some “me time.”
Arguments between friends are inevitable. True BFFs can disagree and even squabble without getting angry or saying ugly things to each other. I have two “best friends” that I’ve known since college (and that’s quite a few years ago) and aside from the fact that we have known each other and stayed in pretty close contact over the years, there’s an interesting truth that exists between us. We can go weeks, months, or even years without seeing or hearing from each other, and yet, when we resume our contact, it’s as if no time has passed at all. One thing BFFs do that “friends” don’t (or won’t or can’t) do is laugh about their clashes later. They don’t hold grudges.
One of my friends, Doug, owns his own business. Knowing that I was a writer and have pretty good editing skills and an eye for aesthetics, a number of years ago he sent me a copy of an advertisement he intended to run in local newspapers. When I told him I didn’t like the ad and explained why I thought it wouldn't work, he was offended. I was only being truthful (and, I guess, a bit too blunt), but it didn’t matter. He had put a lot of work into the ad, and I’d shot his plane out of the sky. He didn’t speak to me for almost seven years! I was sure the friendship had hit a dead end, but what could I do? Well, here’s the test of a true BFF: somehow, we resumed our conversation, and for all the years since we have been in regular contact. And though we live half a continent apart and live completely separate lives, we still get together whenever we can, or, at least, we promise to. And should one of us break that promise for any reason (guilty), we simply revise the promise and our plans and look for the next opportunity.
Oddly enough, my other BFF, Steve, and I live several states apart and have not spoken for over a year. But I know that when we get around to visiting again, it will be as if we spoke just the week before. By the way, along these same lines, a true friend will often call for no reason. Do true friends need a reason to call or hang out together? Of course not. They hang out together because they enjoy each other’s company. So I ask you: all these “friends” you pal around with at school and try so hard to impress— do they call you at night or on the weekends just because? Didn’t think so. They only call or seek you out when they want something.
BFFs will debate with each other, share ideas and opinions, but they’re not hung up on winning the disagreement. A true friend doesn’t always need to be right.
BFFs trust each other. If your BFF tells you something, you accept it as true. He or she won’t fill your noodle with rumors and innuendo, and trusts that you’ll show him or her the same respect. Your other “friends” may tell you things that are true, but they’re just as likely to spread untruths— gossip and rumors that have no basis in fact, and they’ll still expect you to believe whatever they tell you. Here’s the rub, though, as William Shakespeare would say: if your “friends” talk about other people behind their backs, how likely is it he or she is backstabbing you, telling stories about you when you’re not around?
Another thing about true BFFs. They take you As Is. Glasses? Braces? One leg shorter than the other? Like to spread your wings indoors? It doesn’t matter to them. And they know that you accept them just as they are. One of the reasons Janis Joplin caught such grief and misery in high school was because she refused to dress the way everyone else did. She had her own way of being and when the other students couldn’t handle it, they ridiculed and mocked her. It’s not that Janis didn’t have any friends in school, she did, but the other kids couldn’t accept them either.
You may have a variety of “friends” at school and in the neighborhood, but too many times, your other so-called “friends” want to keep you all to themselves. Your closest friends, however— your absolute true friends —won’t mind if you hang out with other people who aren’t quite the same as them. If anything, it shows them you appeal to an interesting variety of individuals; it makes them feel all the more special because you found each other and created that over-the-top bond.
Tonight You’re Going to Rearrange the Stars
Once, I invited my closest friend Steve to go hiking with me in the back country of the Smoky Mountains. We had ventured into the Cades Cove region, where the Appalachian Trail makes a brief crossover through a large picnic area and then disappears into the woods again, but we had never camped hiked and camped in that part of the back country. Since Steve is a native of that part of Tennessee, I assumed he had spent a great deal of time in the mountains. Turned out, he hadn’t. All he had ever wanted to see of the mountains was covered by day hikes and the sights in Gatlinberg, the The Smoky Mountains’ best known and most expensive tourist trap. His true love was flying; he thrilled at the magnificence of the sky as seen from the cockpit of an airplane. Like me, he wanted to know what heaven was like, but he wanted speed and control as he made the journey. I preferred to hike, to talk and explore the lush green regions of the mountain forests and our ideas, all the while discussing the map to heaven and how to read it.
A few years in the Navy took care of Steve’s first love. He learned how to fly, and occasionally takes to the skies today. But the second part— that, we agreed long ago —was a personal matter. Each of us would make the climb in his own way.
“I’ve never spent a night in the mountains in my life,” he told me.
“The way I see it,” I said, “it’s time you sat and faced the universe. Tonight you’re going to rearrange the stars.”
Steve smiled as if I were speaking metaphorically, but I was quick to assure him that I was speaking literally. “In fact," I added, "tonight, if you look closely at Orion’s Belt, you’ll notice that it’s not quite in the same spot it was in when you took high school Astronomy. One of my very first efforts.”
He smiled politely, but he was still looking at me as though I had grown a second nose. "Moved Orion's belt, did you?"
"Well, not far. I didn't want to scare people."
"Interesting."
Because he was a trusting sort, and a good friend, Steve took me up on the challenge and followed me up the trail, backpacking like a seasoned hiker.
We cooked dinner over a fire that first night out, swapped stories and made promises, then called it a night. I crawled into the tent and left Steve sitting with his thoughts by the fire. It wasn’t long before exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep.
I have no idea how long Steve was awake that night, or how he did what he did, but when I awoke at dawn he was already up— or still up —stoking the embers of the fire. There was a discernible bounce in his step as he moved about camp, and he had renewed energy to take on the mountains.
"C'mon," he urged as we packed our gear and prepared to take to the trail. "Let's go! Let's go! We're burning daylight!"
"What in the world's gotten into you?" I said, delighted but surprised at his newfound flash and enthusiasm.
He hefted his fully loaded backpack up on his shoulders, cinched the belts, and then led the way up the trail.
“I'll put it to you this way," he called over his shoulder. "Orion’s Belt is back where it belongs. You best leave it be.”
