Sunday, November 04, 2012


Thousands of acquaintances, 417 Facebook friends, a couple dozen in the inner circle, fewer than 10 true friends: that's the snapshot of this single man as he wanders through the end of 2012.

It's tough, having true friends. They get to know the odd things about me and blammo, they disappear faster than free packs of smokes at an AA meeting.

This is when I know I've found someone for life: they're just as weird, they laugh at some of the most inappropriate stuff around, they're snarky, they appreciate the quiet, they don't feel the need to broadcast what we do to the world. That last one is very important. The time I choose to spend with true friends is sacred, private. So are the things we do. The details don't belong to anyone else. They especially don't need to be posted on Facebook.

Mostly, a true friend has to be willing to join in on my weirdness — willing to toss tradition to one side and embrace the wonderful possibilities of life outside the confines. Only misfits fit the bill.

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