What exactly is a “best friend,” anyway? That’s a term we hear often.
One criteria I apply to someone I consider a best friend — and there have been a few of them — is that neither of us has killed the other, in spite of all the provocations, and we still hang out together.
Some of us once teamed up to chase girls, but not any more. If we had caught anywhere near the number of girls we chased, we’d have been sorry individuals indeed — and we were sorry enough as it was.
One man who has been a best friend for decades is now happily married, and he has learned to drink Scotch. Neither of those things can be said about me.
I dated a girl for a while, and then she took me to The Landfill of Love. After a discreet amount of time passed, one of my buddies took up with her. Didn’t bother me any, because another of our friends had dated her before I did — and a fourth guy went out with her after she dumped No. 3.
We have collectively come to decide that just as we passed them around, they also passed us around.
Another term that’s in common usage is “The Kiss Of Death,” but what is it?
I came to realize that every time I heard one particular friend say, “Hey, Jimmy? I think that girl really likes you,” that was The Kiss Of Death.
Here’s how it worked:
Our wolfpack used to make the circuit of dance halls, one of which was the old Knights of Columbus home on Christie Road.
Two girls were sitting by themselves at a table, and my “Hey, Jimmy?” best friend and I asked them to dance. I got to their table first and asked the one who was cuter. She was really cute, too.
Both of them agreed. After the song was over, they remained on the floor and began to talk to us. (We saw this as what frequently is referred to as “A Glimmer Of Hope.”)
The girls were sisters and invited the two of us to visit them at their home on such-and-such an evening. We said we could do that.
At the appointed time, my buddy picked me up in his car, and we set off to meet our fate.
He said, “Hey, Jimmy? I think that girl really likes you.”
That’s when things started not to go smoothly.
We had the address, but after making several orbits of what we thought was the right street, we were unable to find a house with a number that matched.
Turns out we were on one of those screwy Cumberland streets that comes to what you think is a dead end, only it isn’t. You have to go around a zigzag that takes you across another street with a different name in order to find the rest of it. This has happened to me at least three times.
Upon arriving, we found a party in full swing. Being young, dumb and befuddled, we asked what was going on.
My buddy’s potential target of opportunity pointed to her sister — my potential target of opportunity (the really cute one) — and said, “Her old boyfriend called her today from Florida and asked her to marry him, and she said ‘Yes.’ We’re having a party to celebrate!”
It was at this point that my best friend reached under the seat of his car, pulled out a brown paper bag and held it up, telling the girls:
“But we brought these two bottles of wine!”
I did the only reasonable thing I could have done under the circumstances.
I swatted him across his right shoulder with the back of my left hand and hollered, “Whattinthehell’s the matter with you? Let’s get outta here!”
Froggie went a-courtin’, and he did ride ... as fast as he could away from that place. We went to The Famous North End Tavern and wound up having a better time than we probably would have otherwise.
One of my best friends asked if I would help him coach a Rec League baseball team. I told him I hadn’t played baseball since ninth grade — but neither had he.
Slow-pitch softball, yes, but not baseball, and there is a world of difference. In baseball you have to run farther to get from one base to another, and the ball comes at you faster and is smaller and harder to hit. Softball is far more user-friendly for older guys who smoke, drink, eat too much and have bad knees.
We actually did OK. It was fun, and every now and then we meet some of the other Rec League coaches from that era for lunch. It’s almost like a class reunion.
My buddy and I were mid-twenty-somethings coaching high school kids, a couple of whom were pretty good ballplayers who realized we needed some help and provided it as discreetly as possible.
One was a heck of a nice young fellow who was a bit on the shy side. He showed up for a game displaying a crop of what appeared to be ... let’s see ... I know what we used to call them.
Scattered around his neck and the nape of his neck was evidence of a ... a close encounter: spectacular red, orange and purple examples of collateral damage inflicted with what must have been great enthusiasm by someone other than himself.
“Boy,” I said to him, “you got any idea how lucky you are? Any closer, and one’a them bullets would’a taken your head clean off!” He turned as red as our team ballcaps.
My coach-buddy and the other players took up where I left off and rode his (beast of burden) unmercifully — a mass demonstration of envy, more than anything else.
A few days later, we played our next game. After it was over, and all of our players had left, my coach-buddy asked me:
“How come you got your shirt collar buttoned all the way up, and you never did that before?”
“Probably for the same reason,” I replied, “that you’ve got yours buttoned all the way up.”
Apparently, none of our players had noticed anything was out of the ordinary with us. Or maybe they did notice, but didn’t say anything. Young people back then seemed to have more respect for their elders than they do today.
Goldy’s Rule 128: Your best friends are those who give you reasons to smile and laugh that will remain with you for the rest of your days.
What exactly is a “best friend,” anyway? That’s a term we hear often.
Public libraries remain one of the best uses of taxpayer dollars. They are open to all. Young or old, poor or wealthy, residents can use computers and read current magazines and newspapers. Compact discs featuring a wide variety of music and
movies on DVD may be checked out in addition to novels and other books.
Terps need to move and move quickly
The good news is Maryland will never have to play another basketball game in the Atlantic Coast Conference. Goodbye, good riddance, sayonara, smell ya, no more of you, stay classy, we won’t let the door hit us on the way out.
Until we see you in court.
Legislation that increases hunting oppportunities on Sundays in Garrett, Allegany and Washington counties has passed the Maryland General Assembly and reached the governor’s desk.
You’ll never guess who the real hero was (He was six feet tall and bulletproof)
Most folks know about the 20th Maine’s bayonet charge that repulsed the Rebels at Little Round Top because they watched the movie, “Gettysburg.”
Capt. Gary and First Sgt. Goldy post ourselves a hundred yards or so away from where it happened in real life. Tourists frequently ask us how to find it.
Early morning lunar eclipse this Tuesday
For the first time since 2011, our area may see a total lunar eclipse as the moon will pass through the Earth’s deep shadow.
How many deer on Green Ridge?
A study completed in 2013 by a master’s degree candidate at the University of Delaware showed that there are 20 to 30 deer per square mile on the Green Ridge State Forest, including some pretty darn nice bucks.
Then again, he’s manager of the Yankees, and I’m not
I went to bed confused Wednesday night, which in itself is nothing new. But having
watched most of the Orioles-Yankees game, including the final three innings, earlier
in the evening, then watching the late Baseball Tonight before I turned in, I was under the impression that the Yankees had won the game when I was pretty sure before watching the show that the Orioles had won.
Who knows how many times she poisoned him?
My dad used to say that if tobacco and coffee tasted as good as they smelled, the world would be a better place.
Rusty writes about the nature of doghood
I am a dog.
Therefore I bark.
I don’t understand why it is so hard for humans to understand this.
I mean, there are certain things that come with the territory, right?
Black bear biologist explains new hunt
The Maryland Wildlife & Heritage Service has abandoned the bear harvest quota system in use for 10 hunting seasons and has set the next two hunts at four days apiece.
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