FRIENDSHIP

DECEMBER 13, 2022 – I enjoy regular phone visits with my friend James. He lives in New York, right around the corner from Carnegie Hall. I live in Minnesota, right around the bend from “Little Switzerland.” We were good friends in high school and remain close friends to this day, though we live worlds apart.

I mentioned James in my 9/12/2022 post. He’s led a fascinating life, and blessed with keen powers of observation, he’s always good for original and penetrating insights about life.

We laugh over our politics. In high school we were political junkies, he an eloquent liberal and I, a ranting conservative. I’ve long since crossed over from the dark side, but he now launches into diatribes by which he could be mistaken for a Republican. He’s generally still a liberal, though, and pessimistic about the country’s inclinations toward fascism and tolerance of intolerance. He calls me Pollyannaish when I express optimism about the nation’s prospects.

Neither of us convinces the other about the status of the water glass with water standing at the midway mark. If he’s swayed by my sanguinity, he’s not letting on, and likewise, I don’t reveal my fear that perhaps things are sliding toward the eternal inferno. Today’s conversation was no different in this regard, except that I got the last word. After he pretended to apologize for having burst my bubble of optimism, for having poked fun at my calling the glass half-full, I surprised him. I told him I was even more optimistic as the result of our conversation.

How could this be? he wondered. Easy. I so treasure his friendship, stories, intellect, originality, sense of humor and broad horizons, that however good my mood at the start of a chat, I’m always happier after a long talk. This holds true for all conversations with friends, but it was today’s exchange with James that led me to recognize this truth.

Shortly afterward, another friend called—Mark Levine, a college classmate. When I answered, I laughed, which puzzled him. “Why are you laughing?” he asked. “What’s so funny about me calling?”

Mark is one of the most caring people you’d hope to meet. After selling his business a few years back, he plunged into helping families beset with pediatric cancer and hosts a regular podcast called, “Help and Hope Happen Here.” Listen to any one of Mark’s 225 interviews of oncologists, nurses, parents, patients, survivors, and you’ll find your faith in humanity restored.

In college Mark was the most rabid Red Sox fan on campus. He expressed his opinions with such intensity, you stood back. Yet, inevitably, after an acerbic harangue, the sun would burst through his heavy scowl. Relieved, you’d join him in laughter, remembering that his humor was as reliable as his intelligence, and in fact, they were of the same language.

So why was I laughing when I answered? As I told Mark, I’d just finished a conversation with James, a talk that had left me energized. When Mark’s name was announced by caller I.D., I explained, I was laughing out of additional joy, not humor. Mark understood immediately. A half hour later, we concluded a wonderful, uplifting call. I told him what applies to all my friends: “The world is a much better place because you’re in it.”

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© 2022 by Eric Nilsson