Friends

Hello All,

I've still going through some issues with myself. My heart is very heavy and I guess I will just have to deal with it for a little bit longer. But, as always, it got me to start thinking about things of my Childhood . . . and especially friends and why they were my friends.

First off, let me point out that I have NEVER been particularly adept at making friends or being social at all. I can keep up a conversation, hold my own at sports events, even drink someone under the table at a bar (well, ok, that last one would be more like 'drink someone the fastest to two beers now . . . my drinking binge days are WAY behind me). But . . . I have never really had the qualities that are needed to have, and mantian too many friends.

First,let me define my vesion of 'best' friend. A 'best' friend is not the top of the list friend that you like the most. You can have more than one best friend. A best friend is mereley a 'type' of friend. Some of you may have TONS of best friends, others may not have any . . . . some of you may agree or dissagree with me on that, but this is my story so THERE. But, to explain Best friends better, I guess I have to go through my whole concept of friends and friendship.

To 'splain . . . (remember, this is MY defenition of friendship)

BEST friends are the ones that really and truly understand you. More than that, they act as if they have an investment in you and don't dismiss you summarily over 'little' things. When you call a 'best' friend up and tell them you are sad, they will rush right over to dance like a clown in front of you. If you tell them that you were hurt by someone, they demand their address so they can go give them a peice of their mind. Never mind that it was your fault, never mind that it was an accident, or a fluke. Best friends can't stand to see each other suffer. another issue about best friends is they won't leave you when you fuck up, or do something so incredibly stupid. Instead, the best friend is there to see you through your dark times, to help you get back on your feet . . . because, unlike any other friend, a 'Best' friend is with you through thick and thin. You feel comfortable telling them ANYTHING, and often do.

Regular friends are the ones that will console you when you are sad, sick, depressed . . . but always from a slight distance, as if on the outside looking in, always with that look of 'My God, it really sucks to be you right now'. But they will be there to drink with you, do stuff . . . they will listen to your tales of woe, and patiently wait for you to finish. They will be sad for you and tell you they are sorry and wish you the best in your speedy recovery. They are living hallmark cards, and they are VERY good at helping you to feel better when you need it, but there is a personal line between you that they and you, do not dare cross. You can confide in them, just don't expect them to jump on your bandwagon.

Casual friends are similar to regular friends, in that you can talk to them, and if you are sad, they will listen to you . . . for maybe a short while, maybe not. there is a very short time limit with casual friends. if you pass that time limit, then you are boring them and they don't want to be around you much. They may not act like it in front of you, but inside, they are not listening to you, instead, they are thinking how they can quietly slip away as you rant . . . on whatever you are ranting about this time. But they are your friend primarily because of the fun stuff you bring to the table. . . the FUN side of you is what they want. If you aren't fun, then you are, in a sense, 'dead' to them, and they make excuses not to be around you if you bore them. Casual friends dont truly care about the real you. They care about the functional you and how you enhance them as a whole. There is very little effort put into a casual friendship. Thats why we all may have lots and lots of 'casual' friends.

Epic Friends . . . Now, I just made this one up . . . I guess, I made it up because, in your life, there is always ONE person, one 'special' person that should get the 'medal of honor' of friendship. These are the friends that have done something so selfless, so epic . . . that you remember their sacrifice always. Sure, maybe they move out of the 'Epic friends' slot later in life and mabye become more casual, or regular friends, but there is always that one moment . . . and even if you don't talk anymore, and they have said 'You are Dead to me' and walked away . . . they still have that award, for they've done the deed, and should always be remembered in the 'EPIC' category. Epic friends are for those who have lierrally, or figuratively 'taken the bullet' for you at sometime in your life. You will remember them always.

So . . . Now that I explained my concept of friendship . . . I wanted to tell a story of friendship from my childhood. I have many stories of friendship, but this one is probably the most fondest memory I have and I wanted to share.

Dan has been my friend forever. I would put in in the category of 'EPIC' friends because he has literrally saved my life on many occasions. He lived just a few houses down the street and I don't remember the first time we met because we were very small. There were other kids in the neighborhood, but Dan, for somereason, became my friend at the time, and we remained so throughout our childhoods. While other friends came and went, Dan was always there in the picture as I was growing up. Sure, there were some rocky times, but we always remained friends.

Dan, in 2nd grade, (well, we called him Danny back then) was moved up to 3rd grade. it was because of his age, or something like that. basically a logistical thing . . . but Dan, he told us all it was because he could tie his own tie . . . I was amazed . . . Tying a tie seemed litterally 'impossible' to me at that age, so I can certainly understand bumping him a grade for it. It made me jealous. I only had a clip-on. I felt dumb.

In 5th grade, Dan was my only friend, but at that moment, he was probably more in just the 'casual' friend stage. Still, he was really my only friend, and when one is starving for friendship, a casual friend is better than a kick in the nutsack. I was having problems . . . at school socially. I didnt' talk to people, didn't really want to get to know them. Truly, I didn't want to speak to anyone at all, for any reason. When it came to participating in schoolwork, I did so, but when asked questions in class, I would just nod, or shake my head . . . even if it was an open-ended question. The teachers thought I was 'emotionally' handicapped, and requested that I be tested for possibly going to a 'special' school.

I was tested, over and over, and over again . . . I saw a psychologist to determine why I was always afraid, always not talking, and always trying not to answer anything. Truly, I do not now know the answer to those questions. I can only surmize that my life just plained sucked, and i didn't really feel that there was anything I could to do make it better. My grades were average, I just didn't communicate effectively withothers, I guess. Enough for them to stamp me as 'Mentally Handicaped'.

So, they shipped me off to another school, a 'Special' school for handicapped kids. I was upset at first. I mean, how degrading, do be labled 'dumb' and shipped off. I was angry, mad, upset . . . and more than VERY embarassed. All I could think of is how everyone at school, everyone who called me names, everyone that called me dumb, or an idiot . . . They were all justified now. I could no longer use the retort, "No I'm not dumb!"

But, I made the best of it . . . I got over it, and actually GREW to love the classes I was in. I mean, they were VERY easy, and I instantly because the smartest kid in class. The other kids looked up to me for the most part, and all asked me to help them. I LOVED that I was needed, and always helped them as much as I could. the material was so easy, I could have instructed the classes my self.

The school had other plans, however, and they thought I wasn't being challenged enough (which was very true), so they moved me up a grade. Now I'm in 7th grade, special ed . . . THAT was so simple, I fell right back into my 'I'm the smartest man ALIVE' role and even jokingly referred to myself as 'Dr. Steve' at times. I was in heaven. I was loved by all, I had power to help people, it was great. Stil, though, the school was not impressed with my advancment, and was determined to challenge me in whatever way they could. So they moved me up again . . . Now I'm taking 8th grade special ed . . . then 9th grade special ed . . . I even went to special olympics as the captain of the volleyball team (I wasn't physically able to compete against anyone there, so they thought they'd give me the 'honorary' title so I could feel part of something). Eventually, they determined that I was really too smart for special classes, and that I should be moved back into regular school. Saddest day of my life.

The next year, I went to the same school, but I was put into regular, normal classes. It was 6th grade, so, in the scheme of things, I was a year behind those I started kindergarten with. I was promised a move up to 7th if I did well in my classes, but, the truth of the matter was, they felt that being a grade behind, would make me more socially acceptable,since that seemed to be the issue I was dealing with. So I started normal 6th grade. I was bigger than everyone here, and no one talked to me . . . mostly becasue they were afraid of me (look at it from their side: Here comes this Very tall silent guy into your class, that is rumored to have been kicked out of the special ED program. Rumors are rampant.). So, I was left alone to my own devices. I didn't get moved up . . . I went normally into 7th grade along with everyone else. But I was okay with that.

7th grade, though, is where people started to notice me more. Wally Crumpler, a very short, stubby, blond kid with freckles would ask me on occasion, "Did you ever beat anyone up in Special Ed?", or "I bet if people picked on you, you'd just POUND them once and they'd go into the ground". Wally, it seems, was a casual friend that feared me, in some way.

However, I wasn't a person that should have been feared. In fact, I was the exact opposite. I was a wimpy kid that was afraid of everything and everyone. I never tried to burst Wally's bubble, because I felt it lent me some personall safety. If everyone found that I couldn't hurt a fly, I would be like an overly tall slab of aging meat out in the serengetti, baking in the sun, just waiting for the prides to gather.

It wasn't long after than Wallies 'feeler' questions told him the truth of the matter and he figured out I was nothing to be feared. Wally became my worst nightmare . . . him, and his cronies that were, surprisingly, even shorter than Wally. He'd walk around with them and casually mention how he could beat the crap out of the biggest guy in our class if he wanted to (me).

So . . . Getting back to friendship . . . and Dan (Danny). Dan and I hung out more and more. After all, My school was a bit farther away, so I didn't really have any school friends in my neigborhood. There was only Dan to hang out with. We hung out more and more, and he became a closer friend over those years.

We LOVED to ride bikes around, it was our thing to do. Dan had his Schwin, I had my Mongomery Wards special . . . they were pretty sucky bikes, but they worked fine for us, and we loved the fact that it allowed us the ability to explore and becmoe more mobile in our lives. It allowed us to open up our ever-increasing universe, just a little bit more. It allowed for Dan and I to really bond in a way that I had never bonded with anyone. Sure, he had been my friend since childhood, and we had already bonded in many ways before, but we had also grown apart over the previous few years . . . Now we were together again . . . 'Double Lightning' we called ourselves (we even made a logo for it!). We did everything together.

One time, we rode our bikes over to my new school. Several of my classes were in a classrooom area with an atrium in the middle. Dan and I went over to one of the alcoves so I could show him which classes I took, and what the atrium itself looked like. Nothing big, just showing him around some.

As we turned to leave the alcove that went into the locked atrium, Wally Crumpler, and his band of midget chronies were there. . . About 12 or so, standing at the entrance to the alcove. Dan and I, standing next to our bikes, staring at them were taken aback a little. Wally looked angry and . . . even a little evil. His chronies, in an attempt to look similar, just made the whole thing look rather comical. I focused on Wally, soI wouldn't crack a smile, and give him the wrong impression. I wasn't really afraid, I mean, after all, Dan and I were larger, and Dan, I thought, knew how to fight. . . but . . .

. . . At least, I ASSUMED Dan knew how to fight. He would, at times, talk about how he stood up to this guy, or tht person, or whatever . . . in his stories, he was always the hero, and he never backed down. It gave me confidence to know that Dan was there. Still I was very nervous. These kids were like little pirhanas, ready to whittle our meat down to the bone.

Wally looked at us, then spit on the ground at our feet. He looked up, one of his evil eyes attempting to peirce my face.

"He can go," he said in a low, gravely voice, that . . . in itself almost made me laugh. He pointed at Dan, while maintaining his evil Witch Eye stare at me. He paused for extremely effective dramatic effect. His other hand came up slowly, to point at me as he said, "But You Stay."

There was a couple snickers in the back of the Wally crowd, followed by several 'Shhs's' . . . remeniscant of an old monty python skit. I didn't say anything. Cripes! What could I say? Dan, however spoke first.

"Ok, I'll go," he said, pushing his bike forward through the crowd. Nothing else. just 'I'll go'. I was shocked. The oompa loompa gang parted for him, and swalloed the entrance back up when he was through. He was no longer their concern. Now it was me they wanted . . . and me, that every eye was lusting to hurt in some unimaginable way.

"Listen I said," trying not to sound desperate, but realizing, that this is exaclty how I was sounding, but I couldn't help myself. Dan's leaving said volumes and I had never felt so alone, so vulnerable . . . and weak. Still, I didn't want to get beat up, "We're just looking around, we don't want any trouble here". I was betrayed by a gulp that showed everyone how scared I was.

There were some snickers, some chuckles, even a guffaw somewhere in the back. They all moved in closer, as if to even try to blot out any light between me, and the outside of the alcove. It was a move meant to initmidate, and it worked very well.

Wally stood in front, and punched his fist in his hand. "You can't get out of this ass kicking. Weve been waiting a long time." He took a step closer.

From the back of the crowd, we heard Dan's voice, VERY loud, and very clear. "Either HE goes . . . " He was standing next to his bike. Held in his hand up and away from him, was a small black object with silver tips and a black button that his thumb rested on. As he paused . . . for dramatic effect . . . he pressed the button on the object. A 'snick', and then a small three inch blade instantly appeared at the top of the knife. The tiny gang collectivley awed and gasped at the same time. Dan continued, "Or NOBODY goes!" He maintained his dramatic pose with the knife held high, as if a lantern warding off evil spirits.

"Fuck", said Wally backing away as they made a hole for me to leave. Some of the kids ran straight out, but not too far . . . they didn't want to be near the knife weilding guy. In fact, there were a lot of 'Fucks' mumbled by many of them as all gave us a wide berth. I got to Dan, smiled. He said, "You ready to go?" . . . I said I sure was, and we got on our bikes and rode out. Behind us, there were shouts of "Yeah, you better run!" but they seemed to be ready to sprint as fast as they could in another direction, should we turn our bikes around.

That was the coolest experience I've ever had, and it ingrained Dan into the halls of 'Epic' friend. We've been friends ever since . . . with only one falling out my senior year in highschool, but we are very good friends again, and I am all the better for it.

Dan, you are an EPIC friend, and I am glad you have been there for me.

Steve