"Brief Encounters & the Quality of Friendship"

        I went to a funeral the other day. A friend of mine lost his father. This friend is someone that I don't see as often as I would like to, but when I do see him there is this strong sense of fellowship. We had worked together at the Speedway Parks Department--one of the best jobs ever.
      His father was a good man. He was an artist, he had been a marine, he was a good father, a good grandfather, and a good husband. He lived well and I'm quite sure that I'm not the only person that had a deep sense of respect for him. His name was John and I can honestly say that I don't know that I've ever met or will ever meet anyone that I enjoyed talking with more than him. He had the gift of talking to you and making you feel like you were the only person in the world. I think I only had 6 to 10 extended conversations with John, but I will treasure each one and the imprint he left upon me.

     Ask yourself this, "How many people like 'John' have I known?" I'll bet you've known quite a few.  I have also been blessed with a good number of friends, but I want to distinguish between life-long friends and people like John.

      If you think about it, it's very difficult to define the quality of friendship. In the case of many friends the quantity of years and shared history both serve to define that friendship, but in the case of people like John it seems to me that quality is more of a factor.

     For me, the diversity of my brief encounters is far-ranging and eclectic. This is one of those topics that I could ramble on about for days, but for the sake of this blog I have chosen to focus on three areas:

   Mentors & Teachers/Coaches

      These are people that occupy our lives for just a brief amount of time. Teachers alone can have a huge influence. It's funny to me that at one time a school year, a semester or a grading period seemed to go on forever. After about 20 years of teaching and as I close in on the age of 50 it's clear that my youthful perception of time was slightly askew. Every thing is relative.

       Teachers and mentors are people that took the time to care and to see qualities in us that we either could not see or didnt' care about at the time. The ones that pushed us and challenged us. They dared us not to quit on ourselves and taught us to ignore our limitations. Their efforts taught us that the majority of challenges and barriers we would face were psychological.

         Sadly, some of them are no longer with us, but that is what characterizes a true mentor or teacher. Their impact resonates long after they step out of our lives and into somebody else's. If there is any immortality on Earth, it lies there.

    Kitchen Table Conversations

         There is a little overlap here as far as mentors go. The people I'm thinking of here are mostly parents of friends and relatives of friends. Honesty is what I remember most about the conversations I've had while sitting at someone's kitchen table or counter top.

          I can remember talks in which I was praised and chastised by people who cared enough to go beyond telling me not just what I wanted to hear, but they caringly and courageously  told me what I needed to hear. These were conversations that taught me about life and character. I learned ideas and concepts that have been so valuable that saying thanks is so woefully inadequate that I will have to settle for doing my best to "pay it forward."

   The Trappings of Youth & Nostalgia

       I think we have a tendency to maintain some friendly acquaintances because we forged  them when life was (or at least seemed) fairly simple. This is part of the benefit and the danger of facebook and other forms of social media. There are studies that suggest that 1 in 5 divorces can be attributed to some form of social media. I'm sorry to say that while I don't doubt that, I also think that a friendship or acquaintance from our younger days can still be treasured for whatever joy it gave us at that time. We should be grateful for those happy and romantic snapshots from our angst-ridden adolescence.

        It's okay to look back on those awkward days and remember the way that person could make you smile. We can think of those times, sans any pain or drama, and be grateful for the bittersweet experiences that we thought would bring our lives to a crashing halt. Another valuable life lesson I learned from my teen years was that, "life goes on."

       Teammates, classmates, and first dates all made my youth worthwhile. I still have many friends from those aspects of my life. People that I played sports with that were younger than me and older than me, the people that I met in my classes that I didn't know very well previously, and the girls that were nice enough to go to movies with me can all be numbered among my "brief encounters." I'm grateful for all of them.

          The following is an excerpt from a poem by W.H. Auden:

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

     I would like to dedicate this blog to John Hodgin and all the other wonderful brief encounters of my life.



     In Memory of John

    

"14 Years in a Moment"

     Nearly all of my adult life I have been an Indianapolis Colts fan. For me and for many, today was a day for wistful reflection. Five For Fighting's song "100 Yeas" seems very applicable. I kept thinking of it as I watched Peyton Manning's press conference covering his tearful departure from the Colts. "All good things..," they say.

    In 1984, the Colts came to Indianapolis. It was thrilling. The NFL had come to my town. I was 20 in that moment and brimming with optimism.The then Hoosier Dome resembled a big Jiffy Pop and the bright green astro turf glowed with the promise of a bright future--it's hard for me not to be cliche' about this. 

     It didn't take long for reality to rear its ugly head. The Colts struggled for what seemed like a long time. Three years later, in 1987 they actually made it to the playoffs, just as they did in 1995, 1996--the year they made it to the AFC Championship and one play away from the Super Bowl. I saw the best of times and the worst of times.
    The thing that I remember most about those early years were the games the Colts played in during their time in the AFC East Division. I remember watching games with the Dolphins and the Bills. It seemed like there were a number of games that the Colts could have won, but unfortunately Dan Marino or Jim Kelly would trot onto the field and crush my hopes of a victory.
    Then in 1998, we drafted one of those guys that trots onto a field and breaks the hearts of opposing teams and their fans. Not only does Peyton rank up there with Kelly and Marino, but he has  surpassed them. He will be in the Hall of Fame just like they are, but they won't have four MVP awards and a Super Bowl ring. That's how I will remember Peyton. He was like some Greek hero that could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. I will think of the 2003 Monday Night game in Tampa Bay-a harbinger of things to come, the 2006 AFC Championship victory over the despised Patriots, and the decisive Super Bowl victory over the Bears.
    I feel that I owe Peyton and his teammates for that Super Bowl win. I waited 23 years for it. It was worth the wait. There aren't too many things in life that can make you feel that way. In fact, I can't think of a single thing in life outside of the birth of my children that comes close.That feeling actually helped me through the Colts Super Bowl loss to the Saints. I thought to myself, "Drew Brees has the heart of a lion and he played like...well, Peyton Manning."

"Daydream Believers & Guilty Pleasures"

     When I was growing up, "Daydream Believer" was just one of my favorite 'guilty pleasures' and I had a lot of them. It always struck me as an upbeat song about hope and happiness. I have to say I was sad to hear about Davy Jones. I always liked "The Monkees" and what Gen X member doesn't remember Davy coming to Marsha's rescue on "The Brady Bunch" ?
     As more of the actors, singers, and various artists from my youth pass on, I do feel a bit of sadness mixed with the realization that I'm getting older. I hear there's a lot of that going around.
     The one upside of getting older is that we really don't have to feel all that guilty about our favorite guilty pleasures. When I was younger I can remember saying, " I don't care what people think." I hear kids say that today. Me thinks I did protest too much. I did care what people thought back in the day just as kids do today. It seems like I can say that with more honesty as I close in on the big FIVE-O--but there are still occasions when I say it and it's just as much a lie now as it was when I was 17.
     The wisdom and shared experience of old age have helped me to see that I wasn't all that weird for liking the movie Grease or comic books or even cartoons. I've learned that many of my friends and peers felt just as I did. Geekness shared is geekness treasured.
       I just found out that my crown jewel of guilty pleasures has been a Broadway musical since 2007. I'm talking about Xanadu. I can't even tell you how many times I've been channel surfing and come across it and watched it. I'm sure I've DVRed it a half dozen times as well.
       It's awful and I usually wonder why Gene Kelly even considered being in it. I almost feel sorry for him as I watch it. It's hard to tell if the writing is worse than the acting or maybe they complement each other in such a horrible way that I have a hard time looking away.
     On the plus side, this film, that is probably considered among the worst of 1980, has 3 things going for it--Olivia Newton John, Olivia Newton John, and Olivia Newton John.
       Farrah did it for other guys, but I liked that blond Australian girl from next door. I liked her so much that I even like Twist of Fate-- another abysmal film, that's not quite as deliciously dreadful as Xanadu, but it's redeemingly revolting in its own right.
       Another reason to love Xanadu is the Electric Light Orchestra. They had a sound that was all their own. I'm honestly not sure if I like the music just because it's ELO or it's just so deliciously cheesy. You've got "Don't Walk Away", "I'm Alive", "Magic", and that dreadful finale number with the roller disco stuff, zoot suits, and God knows what. Could it be more gaudy? I love it.
     So, what are your guilty pleasures? I say we should proudly proclaim them for the execrable enjoyment they give us. I also think they're called pleasures because it's always selfishly pleasing to remember our youthful days. Thanks for stopping by.