Maybe I’m just getting cynical in my middle age but like a successful doctor who’s practice is closed to new patients, I find myself increasingly indifferent to the idea of cultivating new friendships of the human persuasion. It’s not that I don’t like people. In social situations I am invariably outgoing and charming, or so I am told, and I can hold my own in conversations covering a variety of subject matter. It’s just that after the banter and small talk involved in initially meeting someone, I seem to have developed a stutter regarding the next step of “hey, let’s get together at my place, or yours, and do whatever it is people do to become friends”.
I suppose some of that has to do with the fact that my somewhat libertine attitude of being pretty much A-OK with whatever blows your skirt leads people in my neck of the woods to assume that I am just another garden variety Seattle Prog, and I grow somewhat weary of their reaction when they discover that, horror of horror’s, I am a card carrying member of the vast right wing conspiracy. I have lately actually come to rather enjoy their reaction when after agreeing whole hearted on issues from my indifference to gay marriage to the legalization of drugs they will take me for one of their own and start gushing over the Obamamesiah only to have me refer to him as a proto-fascist. A hooked bullhead tossed on a hot sidewalk never looked so speechless. It is endlessly amusing but not particularly conducive to deep, long lasting friendships.
With rare exceptions these days, the old friends that I have made over the years seem to suffice for now. We all have evolved politically over the years, some growing more conservative, some more liberal, but we have seen and heard enough of each other to know that we are all full of shit and that makes the difference.
The picture is of my best friend for the last 15 years and a few newer ones. She is all I need…they are all I want.
Don’t tell her that I said she is full of shit.