Wednesday, October 11, 2006
The Dying Art of Conversation
So much is written in praise of romantic relationships, but very little about the joys of friends. I've often debated my friends about how, in many ways, friendship is a thing itself, not just the booby prize for not making the cut romantically. This is a gender neutral statement -- I know both men and women who would prefer to be the one and only for someone who doesn't see it that way. Romantic love is great, no doubt, but it's exhausting, all that I would walk across hell to get your hat if you dropped it off your pretty little head stuff, all that I love you, no, I love you more (these lines always make me think of the great Ben Wallace commercial for cell phone minutes -- seeing Ben in the locker room on the phone telling someone he loves them more is worth switching cell plans for). Granted, when it's working, it's like watching the Pistons beat the Heat (like they did last night in a pre-season game, HA!), but often it's more like watching the Lions -- a doomed enterprise even in the best of times.
And this is where friendship comes in, the workhorse of all relationships, the one that you don't have to put on your party hat for, the kind of thing where you can be yourself and not worry about it. I had a conversation with a friend the other day where I was saying exciting bon mots such as -- I had that dream about the Halloween store again. Then I drifted off, stuffed more salted bread in my mouth like some deranged squirrel (yes, I salt bread) and looked glazed. It's a reoccuring dream, you know, I continued, as if this were going to make the whole story come together and make sense. My friend, a great sport, said, Were you buying anything in the Halloween store? I mean do you usually buy something there? I replied, Just browsing. It's more a mood than anything. And there's lots of dying light in the store. Trapped. You know, trapped dying light. My friend nodded. What was there to say? If love means never having to say you're sorry, then friendship means never having to be sorry about not being more exciting.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I'd love you and be your catfish/ friend and drive such/ lonely thoughts from your mind." Richard Brautigan, The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster
Drinking movie suggestion: Short Cuts
Benediction and Maledictions
Go Tigers! And here's to the Pistons' great pre-season start! Whoo-hoo!