A FRIEND INDEED

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (08-21-25)

     Over a year ago we bought a vacation home in another state, and my wife thinks I should make some new friends there. Possibly so that she can enjoy an evening alone once in a while, maybe watch a movie without the bonus dialogue that I often supply just when there's a crucial but boring plot development. She's also afraid that because I binge-watch "Portlandia," I may eventually purge-watch it. But what actually constitutes friendship, and how do you go about forging a new one?

     I might have to learn to be a little more open and accepting. I can do this. I'll need to be less of a curmudgeon, not as cantankerous or irascible. Meaning that I'll have to stop complaining out loud as much, but I suppose I could write anonymous notes about, for instance, how child-proof caps are so hard to open that, how old do you need to actually be?

     It seems like the older you get, the harder it is to make new friends. But If you're willing to meet me halfway, I'll go a third of the way:

I need a friend that would be the yin to my yang. He should get to know me so well that he can finish my sentences for me, especially in prison.

A friend might go through a dangerous experience with me, where we come out the other side bonded for life, like buddies did during the Great War. What was so great about the Great War? The people! I've lived mainly in times of peace, but perhaps we could go through a car wash after we forgot to close the windows or something.

A friend is someone who does not mind my quirky habits, like humming rap songs, or putting salt on everything, even inedible objects.

I'm looking for someone who understands and accepts my past, when I was born into an underprivileged family in Chappaqua, struggling to survive on the street, using only my wits, with a father who beat me, at ping pong, and a mother who often threw my sneakers down into the basement if I left them lying around. 

A friend is someone who will learn the key scenes from "This is Spinal Tap," and be willing to perform them with no rehearsal in case there's a sudden remake.         

A friend is who is behind me all the way, waiting to see if I step in something gross.

A friend is someone who is there through thick and thin, making fun of me when I get fat, and then ratting me out when I go on Ozempic.

I need to be able to rely on my friend for his good judgment. That good judgment didn't help him when picking his friends though, did it? 

My friend could be a woman, too, as long as I don't subconsciously compare her to my mother. If she throws my sneakers into the basement, it won't be so subconscious anymore.

I need​ a friend with benefits, especially dental, in case we have to smile for the same photo. I need someone who, if they talk too fast or too low, always says something that nodding my head with a conspiratorial smile is the correct response to.

My friend should have less ailments than me. There's nothing worse than going to all the trouble of having an infirmity in every part of my body to complain about if yours are going to be more serious.

     Should we hug when we see each other? Or just fist bump? Maybe a secret handshake that neither of us even know? My uncle used to kiss me on the lips, and somehow it was not at all weird, but you? Just watch your hands.

     I picture us like the cast of "Friends," really good-looking (you, hopefully not as good-looking as me), with cool apartments in the city (rent stabilized) and other friends, played by Brad Pitt, Tom Selleck and Paul Rudd. Since I have three nipples, I'll be the Chandler Bing guy. You can be the Joey Tribbiani guy and a Ross Geller, as long as you understand that I'll eventually hook up with your former girlfriend.

     If things go sour and we do have a falling out, I just want to make sure that we share joint custody of our other friends. 

     Maybe the friendliest people are not people at all. The phone rang the other day, and you'll never guess who it was: "Ha, ha, ha!" They quipped, "You're harder to get hold of than a greased pig at a rodeo on Mars!" We shot the breeze for a few minutes while I was waiting to figure out who it was myself. Then I asked, "Are you an AI phone bot?" And he thought about it for a little while before answering, "NO!" So we're going out for lunch as soon as I sign up for a car warranty program.

     So, if you see me around, don't be a stranger.