Tag: #OldFriends

  • Losing a Best Friend

    Yesterday, my Uncle Arnie passed away. He was my godfather, and he was goofy, silly, and had a very original midwestern accent that I have never been able to replicate. He was a good uncle, a great father, a dedicated husband, and he was my dad’s best friend. They grew up together, and in a funny twist of fate, they ended up marrying sisters, which meant they legally became family to each other. They liked martinis, and in family gatherings, sometimes they had to be separated at the table, because they could be a little rowdy and obnoxious. You know, just like best friends do. My heart just breaks for my Aunt Margaret, who lost her best friend, too. He was a good man, and he will be missed greatly.

    Then the other day, a friend from high school posted that another classmate of ours had died. My friend wrote a very moving post in Facebook, talking about how close they were in school, and even when they followed different paths and lived in different places, they stayed in contact, and stayed close. You could feel through her words how devastated she was in his passing, that there was a hole in her heart now.

    So, best friends, old friends, have been on my mind this weekend. We all make friends, and then those friends end up becoming family. And I miss my friends. I think what I miss most is just listening to them tell me about their lives. Their loves and adventures and experiences. To make them laugh, and vice versa. It is a motley crew of people we choose to share our lives with. Some for a short while, some forever. A friendship really is one of the greatest gifts you can give to someone.

  • Drinking on a Tuesday Night

    Last night, an old friend of mine took me out for dinner and drinks. Turns out it was more drinks than dinner. In the West Village, we sat outside in one of those sidewalk shanties that have a heater in it. We were the only two idiots out there, and I say idiots because it was like 38 degrees last night. But the alternative was that we would have been inside a very tiny restaurant/bar where no one had a mask on, and we both have kids that aren’t vaccinated, so not wanting to take any risks, outside we sat.

    The pretense of this dinner was to get together and talk about The BEATLES: Get Back doc, as we both are rather huge BEATLES fans. But in all honesty, it was just an excuse to hang out with an old friend and catch up. And we talked very loudly in that shanty. So loud that someone yelled at us to shut up at 11pm, and then the restaurant manager came out and politely told us to lower our voices. Then at midnight, she threw our drunk asses out. They were closing, and  we apologized, while my friend tipped a large amount. Hopefully, we’ll be welcomed back.

    I walked my friend back to their apartment building, as they were a bit more drunk than me, and I wanted to make sure they got home safe. Old friends walking down a very quiet street of Federal styled townhomes, being a bit obnoxious, and laughing too much. My friend made it home, and we promised each other to do this again, and soon.

    And then I did something that I hadn’t done in a long time, I just wandered around the West Village. Cutting back and forth on streets, looking at buildings, and blinking Christmas lights in windows. More and more storefronts are closed, and there weren’t many people out, so a high-end ghost town feel was clinging on the neighborhood. And as I made my way to the White Horse Tavern to see if the literary specters were out and howling; but that bar closed at midnight.

    So, I hailed a cab, and told the driver my cross streets in Harlem, which he accepted without complaint. I expected a fast ride up the West Side Highway, but at 14th street he headed up 10th Avenue, and we rolled quickly up the length of Manhattan. From 23rd Street, we ran non-stop, hitting every green light – it felt like a Christmas Miracle, but it could be due to no traffic at 1am. Finally, we were felled by the intersection at 123rd of all places, where our luck ran out, and we were held by a red.

    It has been very hard living in the City for the past two years, pretty much stuck in our neighborhood. Sometimes I forget how much I like it here. A place that can fill you with excited energy one moment, and try to break you down the next. But it is still a place I love living in.

  • Short Story Review: “Hello, Goodbye” by Yiyun Li

    (The short story “Hello, Goodbye” by Yiyun Li was featured in the November 15th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Getting old sucks, but having old friends makes it tolerable. Boom! That sums up “Hello, Goodbye” by Yiyun Li. I am being a little turdy right now in my review, as this is a story, I thought I would like, and I don’t think I like it, but as I’m writing this, I think I do like it. I’m very conflicted, and there is a good chance that was the point.

    Li’s story revolves around two old friends who met at Berkley, and live in Silicon Valley/Bay Area. Nina is married to a pediatric dentist with two tween/teenaged daughters. Nina’s best friend Katie is in the process of divorcing her much older and very rich husband. As this story takes places in the time of Covid, Katie moves in with Nina’s family, and reflections ensue. Mainly, teenagers think they know more than their parents, and the parents reflect on how right and yet wrong that is. Also, how some people live for contentment, while other people live for experience. Contentment might be an emotional plateau of stability; experience brings the excitement of the highs and the depression of the lows with everything else being forgotten.

    See! I should like this. It is totally up my alley as these are the conversations, I am having with my friends of twenty plus years.

    But something stuck in my craw with this story. (It could be that the title of this story is the same as a very famous Beatles song.) And I think it might come down to sticking the landing of the piece. The story did have a tinge of melancholy of the past without dipping into misplaced reverent nostalgia. Li created ideas and images that I identified with, and enjoyed. SO, I think my unease is purely academic. I can’t identify the climax, and the resolution feels too easy.

    It’s too bad, as I would like to see what Nina and Katie do next in their friendship and their lives.

  • That Song Triggers That Memory

    I went grocery shopping this morning. It is one of the rare moments in my week where I can listen to music uninterrupted. I take the subway down to the Trader Joe’s on 93rd, and there is a little bit of a walk. Early in the morning, after the kids are in school, and people have left for work, there aren’t many folks on the street, so I can jam out to my music; I can get it.

    And as I was riding the subway home with my bags, my playlist randomly gave me “Bye Bye Love,” by The Cars. I have heard this song since forever, and its hints of unrequited love made it such a wonderful juxtaposition of a song, contrasting with its upbeat rock tempo.

    Not sure why, but I added it to a playlist in mid 2018, and listened to it quite heavily. In September 2018, I was visiting a friend from college and her husband in a rather cool Brooklyn apartment that was in a walkup building, and they had access to a rooftop garden. That kind’a cool apartment, you know? We were drinking, a lot, and started playing a game of finding videos and concerts on YouTube of songs we loved. I picked “Bye Bye Love,” from a club concerts The Cars played in 1979. I liked it, but not sure if it played well in the room.

    But the memory of what I was feeling in that moment is still attached with that song. I felt lonely, because my wife and daughter were 3,000 miles away in California. I felt paralyzed as I was supposed to be packing up our apartment for our move to California, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I was about to start rehearsals for what would be the last show I worked on, which had me excited to see my friends who I love and I am amazed by. And I couldn’t shake the feeling of doom, as my mother had cancer, and I knew she wouldn’t recover.

    My college friend lost her father when she was younger, and I knew if there was a friend who could understand what I was feeling, it would be her. And I think of her as one of my close friends, but I couldn’t talk about it. I just lied. I said it was looking better, and we have to believe in hope, and all that stuff. But I didn’t mean it. I said the thing I thought was expected. I didn’t tell the truth.

    I don’t hate listening to “Bye Bye Love,” or The Cars. Sometimes that memory and feeling doesn’t settle over me when I hear it. Some days, I’m okay when I think of my mother’s passing. And then one day, I hear a song, and it all comes back to me while on a B train, heading uptown.

  • Personal History: Radiohead and Mellowing Out

    I had talked recently about the sociological research which had showed that as a person ages, they become more conservative in their thinking. I wanted to also add to that, and I’m not breaking new ground here, but some people also mellow out, and don’t get as worked up as they used to. For me, music is one of those subjects.

    So, from about 14 to 28, I was pretty aggressive, and can fully admit, arrogant in my music opinions. (My Beatles fanaticism is unshakable; Do not challenge it.) In that vein, the year was 1996, and I fully believed and could conclusively prove that Radiohead was a one-hit wonder with “Creep,” and though a good song, a great band it did not make.

    And then my good friend John would not shut up about Radiohead’s last album, The Bends, which had come out in the spring of 1995. So, for over a year, every time I got in John’s car, I heard The Bends. At John’s place, he would play The Bends. I even remember one time coming back from a party, and John was driving someone else’s car, and he put on The Bends. I remember this clearly, because I started yelling at him to “turn off that lullaby music!” But it worked. His bombardment of that album on me, constantly, consistently, caused me to come over to the fandom of Radiohead, which lasts to this day.

    Though there was one rough patch, when Radiohead released KID A, which I didn’t get, and I didn’t like, and what I wanted was more songs like the one’s off of OK Computer, and the accompanying EP’s. But you know, they released more albums and Amnesiac was ok, and Hail to the Thief was an improvement, but In Rainbows was great, though King of Limbs was like going back to KID A, and then there was Moon Shaped Pool, which was cool.

    Anyway, KID A was the sore thumb for me, and to be honest, I hadn’t tried to listen to that album in maybe fifteen years. So, I got on a Radiohead kick last week, and started listening to all the stuff I liked, ignoring KID A. But I started thinking about the “mellowing” aspect of my life, and maybe it was time to give KID A another try. I mean, I have become very forgiving to 311, so KID A needs another shot.

    And I still don’t like it. Tried again to listen to KID A, and it’s just not my jam. I think I have to just chalk it up to one of those things I will never like in my life. Right up there with fennel, and the US version of The Office. I just don’t like them.