Waiting For Gordon
I talked to my friend Michael this afternoon for 20 minutes or so. I just needed some advice, a sounding board, someone to bounce a couple of ideas off of. Nothing major; just some details.
This is what friends are for, of course. To lend an ear, or maybe some money when the mortgage is due and that important check is late. To buck us up, comfort us when we're blue, laugh at our jokes, tell us when we're getting fat. I cherish my friends, every one.
I have lots of happy stories about friends. I've shared some recently. I also have sad ones, of course.
Here's the second-saddest friend story I have.
I knew a guy once, whom I'll call Martin, back in my home town of Phoenix, Arizona. Martin was actually more like an acquaintance; we didn't hang a lot, in other words, but in that peculiar world of adolescence we shared a lot of classes from the eighth grade through the four years of high school, so we were used to each other being there. He came up to me the night we graduated and gave me a hug, which was less common an act in 1976 than you might think.
And over the summer, we ended up seeing a lot of each other. We went camping together. We talked. We reminisced a bit. And, in the fall, we talked at the first high school football game of the year at our alma mater, already feeling the future. He was heading out of state for college the next day, and it was a bittersweet night, knowing we belonged somewhere else, now, and not sure where that was.
"I'll see you at Thanksgiving," Martin said, and we shook hands and parted company, and I think if I knew then what I do now, my callow, pathetic 18-year-old soul would have just crumbled, fallen into pieces. I didn't see him at Thanksgiving, and here we are, 28 years later, and I still haven't.
And that's not the sad part.
The sad part is, the last I heard, Martin lives about 25 minutes away, here in the Seattle area.
So I work at my friendships, knowing that they need looking after, a little watering from time to time, some nurturing and attention. As I say, I cherish all my friends.
It's just that some of them I haven't gotten around to meeting quite yet.
I've talked about this before, my fascination and appreciation of Internet friendships. So it was fun to talk with Michael, or I should say Michael, formerly known as Pepe in order to preserve the erstwhile anonymity of his friend, Gordon, who was formerly and is currently known as Real Live Preacher.
Gordon is also my friend.
I'm flying to Dallas this Friday with my daughter, where I'll help her buy a used car. Something else we did online. Then we'll head southeast to my in-laws to have dinner and then visit. And on Saturday, sometime around noon, I'll get in that used/new car and take it for a test drive to San Antonio, where Michael and Gordon will be waiting, along with Jeanene and Amy and the Three Sisters and church on Sunday, some fellowship and friends, none of it (finally) virtual at all.
I'm pretty excited.
Michael helped me out with highways and hotels, and on exactly how to do this (i.e., initially it was going to be a surprise, but we decided that more hours to visit are worth missing the look on Gordon's face when I stood up in his church and talked about the Muppets). Again, as I say, that's what friends are for.
It's possible I'll blog from my in-law's house, although it will have to be dial-up and I may be spoiled now. I definitely will post from my San Antonio hotel, after Michael and I put Gordon to bed. And I will worship in the church of my friend, sing some hymns and hear prayer requests for the gypsies.
And if Gordon decides to be funny and humorously suggests that I give the children's message, he'd better think again. I've been down that road a lot, and I do a lot of Muppet voices. I rock at children's messages.
I would tell them that they have a friend in Jesus, but they have lots of other friends, too. Virtual and otherwise, seen and unseen. And that they are all important, the ones they know and the ones they will meet someday, and that all should be cherished, and watered, and appreciated and loved.
I am going to San Antonio on a Saturday morning, to put my mouth where my money is, and I will let you know.
Chuck
This is the saddest friend story I have.
5:17:18 PM 
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