Old Friends I've often read that a man (or woman) needs a bit of ambition, a good family and good friends to make his life worthwhile.
Until this year I have had the first two in abundance, and have done well for myself both as a father and a businessman.
But these pursuits, for at least the last 10 years, have left very few close friends in a stable that was once filled to peak.
Really, being a husband and father is a full time career, and anybody who has raised kids will understand that there's little room or time for any other relationships.
For me there was no occasional beer with the boys or a weekend in Atlantic City...
which was probably my fault, sprinkled with tough finances.
There was never any money left over for family vacations, let alone playing with the boys.
Being a conscientious father I bowed to all this.
Besides, as a kid myself, my children became my best friends - you can't get Jim the Mailman out there to hit wiffleballs with you, or divebomb you from the top of the couch, or create Crayola masterpieces.
Only the kids can provide that cathartic entertainment, and it was a blessing.
But recently I've discussed transition - upheaval.
The kids are going and gone, and though my wife loves me she's not about to fall into my intensity trap which sometimes drove even the kids nuts.
Let's face it - I'm antsy, always in motion, always using my ideas to move things (maybe even opinionated!).
I'm no good for anybody but...
...
other boys my age! Now I've had, over the decades, many acquaintances at work and on the softball field and through the kids' schools.
But the conversations with other fathers was generally prefaced with "I don't know how I'm paying the tuition next year," or "It's so hard bringing up these kids".
All the stuff we discuss here every week.
But you know there are deeper things brewing in your mind, things that can only be expressed back in the day, when you roamed the high school halls, or walked with your best friend to the baseball field; gut-wrenching anxiety and emotional crisis you can't share with the wife or kids.
So it eats you, and you become worn.
If you had to talk to a group of old friends you probably wouldn't even know how to do it! Then the surprise, John from High School emails you out of the blue - all the guys are gathering at Pepe's after 25 years (they've made this a yearly ritual, but had trouble finding you).
There they are...
John the jokester who shared lots of trouble and 2 a.
m.
conversation; Dave your best friend, even Greg who somehow was naked the night you all had trouble with local authorities (don't ask!).
Have they changed? Can I still talk to other adults? Will I seem too needy, since this is the last stage of the transition from father back to adolescent male? And man, let me tell you, I truly need those friends.
There's an energy that never leaves boys, but that boys must bury when they raise kids.
We have to ACT mature, become impressed and serious about things we always knew were bull, like careers and miserable bosses barking orders and sacrifice of our ideals.
I knew the minute that email popped up, asking "How I was doing?", my quest to find these guys would possess me.
Well, we met, and I stammered around what I've done in life, worried that I had not fulfilled my promise or dreams.
Sort of embarrassed for being a "working stiff" still struggling.
Then it happened - something wonderful.
They took my embarrassment and UNDERSTOOD! And they told me they understood, and proceeded to tell why they thought I had done SO WELL! How lucky I was to have what I have! Now, the wife has told me a thousand times the same exact thing in times of trouble, but really, that's her job; it's either pump me up, or have to live with the craziness of living with a self-acknowledged failure.
But these were boys that knew me very well, knew the real me, telling me to look at the whole forest.
And I loosened, and we laughed like old times with vulgar jokes and seedy comments and filthy mouths filled with beer! And that night I realized that my transition was almost complete - I was going to relive my youth for the rest of my life, as long as I had these friends around.
And I'm sure they'll stay around (some live 5 minutes from me!) now that we've connected again.
Of course they have young families now, so I'll give them some restraint.
But I also see that they have the same desire to share their world with others who "knew them when", before life got hard.
Having raised the kids, I'm poised for a great life at midlife - I can now make something of myself, raised a great family, and now have friends who email me almost nightly, even if it's just a quick joke or obscure reference to our youth.
They feel the same.
Until this year I have had the first two in abundance, and have done well for myself both as a father and a businessman.
But these pursuits, for at least the last 10 years, have left very few close friends in a stable that was once filled to peak.
Really, being a husband and father is a full time career, and anybody who has raised kids will understand that there's little room or time for any other relationships.
For me there was no occasional beer with the boys or a weekend in Atlantic City...
which was probably my fault, sprinkled with tough finances.
There was never any money left over for family vacations, let alone playing with the boys.
Being a conscientious father I bowed to all this.
Besides, as a kid myself, my children became my best friends - you can't get Jim the Mailman out there to hit wiffleballs with you, or divebomb you from the top of the couch, or create Crayola masterpieces.
Only the kids can provide that cathartic entertainment, and it was a blessing.
But recently I've discussed transition - upheaval.
The kids are going and gone, and though my wife loves me she's not about to fall into my intensity trap which sometimes drove even the kids nuts.
Let's face it - I'm antsy, always in motion, always using my ideas to move things (maybe even opinionated!).
I'm no good for anybody but...
...
other boys my age! Now I've had, over the decades, many acquaintances at work and on the softball field and through the kids' schools.
But the conversations with other fathers was generally prefaced with "I don't know how I'm paying the tuition next year," or "It's so hard bringing up these kids".
All the stuff we discuss here every week.
But you know there are deeper things brewing in your mind, things that can only be expressed back in the day, when you roamed the high school halls, or walked with your best friend to the baseball field; gut-wrenching anxiety and emotional crisis you can't share with the wife or kids.
So it eats you, and you become worn.
If you had to talk to a group of old friends you probably wouldn't even know how to do it! Then the surprise, John from High School emails you out of the blue - all the guys are gathering at Pepe's after 25 years (they've made this a yearly ritual, but had trouble finding you).
There they are...
John the jokester who shared lots of trouble and 2 a.
m.
conversation; Dave your best friend, even Greg who somehow was naked the night you all had trouble with local authorities (don't ask!).
Have they changed? Can I still talk to other adults? Will I seem too needy, since this is the last stage of the transition from father back to adolescent male? And man, let me tell you, I truly need those friends.
There's an energy that never leaves boys, but that boys must bury when they raise kids.
We have to ACT mature, become impressed and serious about things we always knew were bull, like careers and miserable bosses barking orders and sacrifice of our ideals.
I knew the minute that email popped up, asking "How I was doing?", my quest to find these guys would possess me.
Well, we met, and I stammered around what I've done in life, worried that I had not fulfilled my promise or dreams.
Sort of embarrassed for being a "working stiff" still struggling.
Then it happened - something wonderful.
They took my embarrassment and UNDERSTOOD! And they told me they understood, and proceeded to tell why they thought I had done SO WELL! How lucky I was to have what I have! Now, the wife has told me a thousand times the same exact thing in times of trouble, but really, that's her job; it's either pump me up, or have to live with the craziness of living with a self-acknowledged failure.
But these were boys that knew me very well, knew the real me, telling me to look at the whole forest.
And I loosened, and we laughed like old times with vulgar jokes and seedy comments and filthy mouths filled with beer! And that night I realized that my transition was almost complete - I was going to relive my youth for the rest of my life, as long as I had these friends around.
And I'm sure they'll stay around (some live 5 minutes from me!) now that we've connected again.
Of course they have young families now, so I'll give them some restraint.
But I also see that they have the same desire to share their world with others who "knew them when", before life got hard.
Having raised the kids, I'm poised for a great life at midlife - I can now make something of myself, raised a great family, and now have friends who email me almost nightly, even if it's just a quick joke or obscure reference to our youth.
They feel the same.
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