Growing up, I had a number of friends in the neighborhood, most of which were just friends of convenience. I had very little in common with many of them, most of them tended to be pains in the ass, and some of them drooled. However, they were nearby and I was young, stuck where I was, and unable to reach the pedals of my parent's car.
On weekends, though, with some regularity, my folks would schlep me back and forth to see my friend Karl, who lived variously in Whitestone and then in Cold Spring Harbor, and eventually in San Diego, Bethesda and Ann Arbor (the schlepping did not include these latter three locations, sadly). Through a very strange quirk of planning and fate, we ended up refinding each other and spending two occasionally frustating, but mostly fun years of college together as roommates in a cell-block sized dorm room before giving each other a bit more space, but still remaining friends and finishing our schooling. Then life happened, and I haven't heard from him since probably my own wedding (although we did get a Christmas card sometime in 1996 or 1997 with no return address).
About a month ago, my dad decided to google him and found a website for him, which has led to a few odd emails, but, ultimately, and hopefully for the foreseeable future, a renewal of our friendship.
Welcome back to the fold, buddy. Let's not go another 10 years.
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On a separate note, a small Ellen blurb from yesterday. I was being my typical smart ass self and making her a bit crazy as she tried to get the answer to a simple question, when, fed up, she told me:
Dad, sometimes you really exasperate me!
And, I'm sure I do.
