Perhaps it is the hour or perhaps a scant pitch of melancholy, but it seems to me there was a time when men shared their happiness. When well-advanced or newly-wed or partnered, they had parties and included their friends and loved ones and sometimes, even their not-so-loved ones or even their past-loved ones to participate in their new found happiness. But it seems tis no more. As of late, several of my friends (acquaintances?) have paired up, shall we say, and then, virtually disappeared. They seem to hold on to one another as in desperation of losing one nanosecond of time together. Do you suppose they anticipate the end of such a momentous entwinement afore it occurs? “I know you’ll tire of me soon, so let’s get every nickel out of it now..”
Why is it so? Is it the economy? Does it take so much more than a cracker and a beer to have reason to get together with friends? Are friends such a counted on commodity, like gold, not to be bothered with unless the times become desperate such that an ounce of gold is an ounce of gold? What has changed? Do we bury ourselves in our amour du jour as we do in our smart phones?
Last night a friend called for he hadn’t the money to pay for his smartphone’s smarts and was forced to actually place a call on some ancient device tethered to a wall, no doubt. Now he did not call to express his concerns for me or his errant absence from my person. No, he called because he couldn’t text his sister and was far a foul for it.
Another friend has a new, shall we say, admirer for I believe in this case there is an admirer and an admireree. We had for quite some years dined together at least once a week and now, well I did see him a fortnight ago last Thursday, one day in the last nine weeks.
Occasionally, a friend from the past pops up for a dinner and maybe even a movie. But it’s rare. There just seems to be an unhappy mist in the air and we must somehow vanquish it. If I were so bold as to throw a soiree, would anyone come? Is it such a dark age that we cannot entertain our friends but not even allow them to entertain us?
Now, I’m not talking about a Roman Orgy just before the Fall. I just thought maybe 2 dollars’ worth of pasta and some tomato sauce, maybe a touch of parmesan and a bottle of what, some Southern-Hemispheric concoction from the grocery store. Would this be too pompous a display as to assuage my companions to respondez sil vous plait “Non!” Ah well, was a thought. But I guess the timing would be wrong for some reason or another. “My friend’s mother is unwell.” “We’re just going to spend the weekend in bed watching old movies.” “I look frightful without a tan.” And so on.
I suddenly have a longing to play Scrabble or put together a jigsaw puzzle. I know I can do the later by myself, but I’ve not yet tried the former. But, alas, the game pieces I have are of wood not bytes, so, perhaps it, along with I, should be relegated to the Smithsonian. I hope we can find some reason to celebrate together as a family sometime soon, maybe after the elections. We should cherish our friends as gold, just forgetting for the moment that gold is a commodity.
