I think you give my “sense” far too much credit. I was as oblivious to the danger of this little “game” as you, even after that meeting. I don’t think it was that I realized any danger, it was that AB’s mom basically said he couldn’t hang out with us anymore if we didn’t get our crap together and behave like decent human beings to each other. That worked. It’s funny, I too recall that sit-down conference in my parents’ dining room as vividly as any moment from that era in our lives. It still stands out to me as one of the finest collective jobs of parenting and conflict resolution I can recall.
I don’t know if I share your memory on the rock solid nature of that square of friends, but that may well be my own insecurities from the time (and the present). And I don’t know if as we aged it wasn’t so much that it wasn’t necessary anymore but that it wasn’t practical. To maintain it would require so much emotional capital and effort that to a man (or boy really) we couldn’t be bothered to do so. It was just easier to make new friends whom we had more in common with as our interests evolved over time, and that’s before high school was even over with. After high school you can throw distance into the mix.
I remember the year they took me to Disneyland. Aside from being a blast, I remember my life lesson from that trip. There was some rather large bug on Lee or Jeff’s shirt, fascinating to me. So I pointed it out. I think whichever twin it was must have been around 5 or so? He didn’t think it was so fascinating and flipped out. AB’s dad took me aside and gently lit in to me for not just brushing the thing off without freaking his son out. Lesson: sometimes it’s OK not to point out every last detail we observe.
I also remember one of those fishing trips to the ocean for AB’s birthday. I remember his dad telling us over and over “never turn your back on the ocean.” I still can picture him telling me that piece of advice, and I find it to be incredibly valuable on both the literal and metaphorical levels. There are things that are beautiful and enjoyable, and yet demand your attention and respect at all times.
Had I gone that’s what I would have shared. I’m glad you could make it.
-Rob
efaithfarm:
December 20th, 2010 at 8:39 pm
I was trying to think of something reassuring or comforting I could say to you, but it was mostly stuff like “don’t be so hard on yourself” which is probably useless. So, instead, I love you man, and I think I understand to a certain degree. It’s pretty easy for me to get down on myself; but it doesn’t do me much good.
Doctormac:
September 10th, 2010 at 3:15 pm
I think you give my “sense” far too much credit. I was as oblivious to the danger of this little “game” as you, even after that meeting. I don’t think it was that I realized any danger, it was that AB’s mom basically said he couldn’t hang out with us anymore if we didn’t get our crap together and behave like decent human beings to each other. That worked. It’s funny, I too recall that sit-down conference in my parents’ dining room as vividly as any moment from that era in our lives. It still stands out to me as one of the finest collective jobs of parenting and conflict resolution I can recall.
I don’t know if I share your memory on the rock solid nature of that square of friends, but that may well be my own insecurities from the time (and the present). And I don’t know if as we aged it wasn’t so much that it wasn’t necessary anymore but that it wasn’t practical. To maintain it would require so much emotional capital and effort that to a man (or boy really) we couldn’t be bothered to do so. It was just easier to make new friends whom we had more in common with as our interests evolved over time, and that’s before high school was even over with. After high school you can throw distance into the mix.
I remember the year they took me to Disneyland. Aside from being a blast, I remember my life lesson from that trip. There was some rather large bug on Lee or Jeff’s shirt, fascinating to me. So I pointed it out. I think whichever twin it was must have been around 5 or so? He didn’t think it was so fascinating and flipped out. AB’s dad took me aside and gently lit in to me for not just brushing the thing off without freaking his son out. Lesson: sometimes it’s OK not to point out every last detail we observe.
I also remember one of those fishing trips to the ocean for AB’s birthday. I remember his dad telling us over and over “never turn your back on the ocean.” I still can picture him telling me that piece of advice, and I find it to be incredibly valuable on both the literal and metaphorical levels. There are things that are beautiful and enjoyable, and yet demand your attention and respect at all times.
Had I gone that’s what I would have shared. I’m glad you could make it.
-Rob
efaithfarm:
December 20th, 2010 at 8:39 pm
I was trying to think of something reassuring or comforting I could say to you, but it was mostly stuff like “don’t be so hard on yourself” which is probably useless. So, instead, I love you man, and I think I understand to a certain degree. It’s pretty easy for me to get down on myself; but it doesn’t do me much good.