My creative friend
She listed 50 friends (no names, please) and told something
peculiar interesting about them. Lemme tell you, she has some mighty quirky interesting friends! If anyone wants a few town idiots interesting characters for your next novel…
Anyway, I said to myself, “Self, this looks like a good idea. It will remind me of how special my friends are to me; how they helped shape who I am.” So here’s a youyou salute to some of my friends. There is no rank or anything biased. I met a few of you while blogging. See yourself?
- You have published a ton of books and articles, and you ask me (of all people) for advice.
- You’re My First Wife’s dearest and closest friend. You are beautiful in every way there is to be beautiful—except you’re not one of my grandkids—and Oak Cliff/Dallas is a better place because of you. You’re the only woman preacher I ever knew.
- You two held me and My First Wife up in our darkest hour. And then you adopted two Romanian kids. When the oldest became a teenager, you took her back there to meet her birth mother—on Mother’s Day. What a beautiful and unselfish gift to that tender little girl and her biological family.
- You were my best friend from the time we both scooted around in diapers. You died too soon. You’re still my best friend.
- You are an outstanding photographer. Your blog has been one of my favorites for the past two and a half years. I get to see the world from a few different angles. Creative ones, too.
- Our unlikely workplace friendship was destined to last forever. How were we to know, way back then? My First Wife loves you to pieces. We’ll never leave you out of any of our exciting goings-on. You know, like new grandkids and all their pictures! We’re proud of everything you do and the way you go about living your life—you’re just part of our family. And we’re blessed that you are.
- You had only one rule: “No popping towels in the shower!” And you paddled my hind end for doing so. I never forgot that. It still hurts! But you loved every student in my home town and remained their friend for years and years, even after we all left town. They don’t make many people like you any more.
- ¡A todos mi amigos Mexicanos. Dios te bendiga—a todo el mundo!
- You run in major marathons, which encourages me to walk in minor city parks. Last year I deliberately walked about 800 miles. I know, I know, you probably ran ten times that far. That’s pretty good. Run out here to Pancake Flats, why don’t you?
- You married me and stayed married to me.
- You taught me that “The future is as bright as the promises of God.” I miss you—but I’ll see you in that Bright Future.
- I know you’re fictitious, but you’re one of my favorite people. I think about you every once in awhile, wondering how you’re doing now that you’re all grown up.
- You let me work in your restaurant for 11 years, one of the top restaurants in
. You were always kind and supportive to me and my family. My world view and my education grew because of you, your family, your friends and your country: Iran. I want to go there someday. Dallas You, you, you and you. Stand up. From all of you, I learned that race and cultural heritage is precious and beautiful. I am a much better person because of you and although I never told you so, I love you every one. Just think: three of us started out in grade school together.
- I often laugh out loud when I read your blog. You have an entertaining way with words and stories that should be published and placed in everyone’s bathroom.
- It's true: the heart is a lonely hunter when special friends just disappear. You left me abruptly one night when we were still in high school. (It wasn’t your fault.) Went to
. Married a sailor and followed him all over the world. Then about 40 years after you left, you called me, and it was if you had always been around. I always knew we had a special bond. Hawaii
- I always called you my sister. You’re about 15 years older than I, but you always treated me like an equal. You alone developed my heart for missions. We should have stayed closer, huh? I suppose you are in heaven now.
- You named your daughter after me, even though we’ve never met. Hmmm. Let’s fix that. (Not the name; the meet.) I’m glad you’re blogging again. You were missed. But you didn’t quit our friendship.
- You ate the last piece of My First Wife’s delicious fried chicken. Should I forgive you for that? Well, obviously. You forgave me of a much greater offense. Now get over here quick, so we can cook up another batch. I’ve always been envious of your model railroad setup, which included the most spectacular balsa wood bridges I ever saw. You built them in no time flat.
- Thank you—and there are several of you—for coming into my family’s life.
China’s loss is ’s gain. America
- When people think of the New York Yankees they think of you. It was my honor to know you and visit with you so many times. I still have your newspaper obituary—and other articles about your passing.
- You were crucified on a cross—for all of us—about 2000 years ago. To this day, people still talk about it.
Hmmm. This looks more like a youme.