My best friend Lloyd relocated to South Africa this week, so now I have no real tight “buddy” to hang with and do man things with, like golf, hike, talk politics, and tell dirty jokes.
I’m going to miss that S.O.B.
On the scale of “socialness”, I would say that I’m down in the introvert area: I would rather observe than interact with people, think than emote, and keep my opinions to myself unless provoked. Llovd was good at provocation, always there with some outlandish rumor or “fake news” tidbit to rile me. It was fun to watch his flawed brain in action (haha) tormenting me.
Our friendship was lots of fun while it lasted… about 5 years.
I’m a friendly guy but not outgoing like my wife. Charlie makes acquaintances by the bucketload; if she was a social media user, which she isn’t, she’d be “friended” by hundreds if not thousands of people. Charlie has had several BFF’s, has many business-related buddies, and has been in leadership with several organizations. If she walks into a meeting or social event where she knows no one, she has several new friends when she walks out. At the same meeting, I would most likely sip a drink, observe people, and speak if spoken to.
I was a shy, red-headed nerd in grade school who concentrated on learning and playing sports. I was socially inept with girls (interested but terrified) and didn’t date until my last month in high school. And, that one date (the Prom) was arranged by my future sister-in-law! What a loser!
I had two best friends in high school: Pat and Glenn. They were my neighbors, and we did a lot of cool things together. Many years later, I was Best Man at Pat’s wedding, and he was my Best Man when I married Charlie.
My confidence was boosted by sports (by age seventeen I was a two-sport Varsity letterman and a lifeguard/swim instructor in the Summer) and a Public Speaking course that I made myself take as a Senior in high school. In college, the social floodgates opened for me: I joined a fraternity, enjoyed the parties, dated a lot of different gals, and learned from all those experiences.
Still, I didn’t have any close guy friends. My two previous best buddies were now attending other universities (Pat at U.S.C. and Glenn at U.C.L.A.), and I had no super-tight bond with any of my frat buddies. I was too busy working and studying, I guess, and my social life consisted of making up for lost time with the “other” sex.
During my four years in the military, I basically kept to myself, not really forming any tight bonds with anyone. I worked in hospitals as an x-ray tech and preferred to work night call, basically running a one-man crew from 5 p.m. to 8 a.m. I golfed on my time off and rarely dated, developing no new long-term friends, male or female.
Shortly after leaving the Air Force, I met Charlie and her four boys, we got married and started our Big Family Adventure. For the next twenty years, my career with the County of Riverside absorbed a lot of my attention, as did my budding relationship with my four stepsons. They, essentially, became my “guy” friends who absorbed most of my “free” time that wasn’t involved with my wife.
In the three decades of my public sector work, I developed good friendships with many fellow workers. Charlie and I fraternized with some of my work buddies, we threw parties, we skied together, and such. I developed a golf buddy in my first boss, Planning Director Jack Newcomb, which carried over to my time in the County Road Department, where Jack became the head honcho. Later in my career, with the County Executive Office, I enjoyed a close relationship with the CEO, Larry Parrish. I especially enjoyed our lunches, several times a week, when Larry and I and other Exec Office leaders would discuss important stuff and talk about local politics while enjoying good food.
Interestingly, when I retired from the County, I retained none of those friendships. I guess I just moved on to the next phase of my life and never looked back. Is that weird?
In the early years of retirement, I did a lot of golfing at our home course, Bear Creek. Me and four other buddies had a “regular” Saturday game where we gambled, told jokes, busted each other’s balls, and laughed a lot. This went on for many years. However, when Charlie and I decided to quit the country club after about twenty years, those friendships seemed to vanish, and I’ve not talked to those guys since then. Huh?
At about that time, I took up equestrian activities, courtesy of a friendship that Charlie developed while a member (and, later, President) of a local charity. Ed Metzler, the husband of one of the charity’s members, was a first-class cowboy who took the time to teach me about riding and caring for horses. After a few years, I got a horse of my own (which I stabled at Ed’s ranch), and regularly rode trails and rodeoed with Ed all over Southern California. We were also members of a riding fraternity, the Rancho California Caballeros.
After about five years of doing that, I got disinterested, sold my horse, and went back to golf for a while. And, poof, just let my friendship with Ed (whom I adored) go fallow.
At about that time, my son Jonathan introduced me to bowling. I got “into” that sport in a big way, taking lessons, playing in leagues, and meeting a bunch of new friends. One of my bowling buddies was also a golfer: his name was Gary Golnick. He and I really clicked, with similar personalities, and regularly bowled and golfed together for several years. But then, my arthritic fingers caused me to give up both golf and bowling. Gary and I never spoke again!
What is it with me, anyway? I seem to have no problem just moving on from good friendships. That doesn’t seem normal, but it doesn’t bother me. Weird, huh?
My most recent man buddy, Lloyd, is moving on to a life in South Africa with a long-time girlfriend (Juanita) that Charlie and I know and love. They’ve tried this before; hopefully, the second time is a charm.
Lloyd is like me in some respects: he’s always looking forward to the next adventure. He’s 74 now, has plenty of money, and probably thinks this most recent “adventure” may be his last. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably give the South Africa adventure a go. After all, he’s been in Mesquite, Nevada for five years and has done and seen just about everything the desert has to offer.
I am going to miss this friendship.
For one thing, Lloyd, Charlie, me, and the three dogs do a lot of socializing together. I typically hike in the desert with Lloyd (and neighbor Mac) once a week, and we alternate homes (Lloyd’s and our) every week for a meal and table games. Lloyd is very nice to Charlie, often brings her flowers, and she adores him.
Lloyd was a fun guy to talk with. He’s a Vietnam combat vet, he was a C.P.A. with a Big Five firm, later became a financial consultant, owned a vineyard in Napa Valley for many years, has traveled the world, and is never shy about sharing his political views and conspiracy theories.
I don’t agree with all of Lloyd’s political opinions, and we occasionally throw barbs back and forth, agreeing to politely disagree but still remain friends. Truthfully, Lloyd is probably the most racist guy I’ve ever known (not keen on Blacks, Latinos, and Asians, in particular) and is antisemitic to a fault, blaming most of the world’s problems on Hungarian-born, Jewish billionaire George Soros. I think Lloyd would be perfectly at ease living under a dictatorship led by tech innovator and billionaire Elon Musk.
Musk, a South African, abandoned that country and Lloyd is moving there for love. I hope it works out.
Despite having philosophical differences with Lloyd, I’ve always enjoyed my time with him. He’s seen and done a lot of things, and always has a joke or story to enliven the conversation. He’s a good hiker, a lousy golfer, and a good card player. He is a guy who you would want in your foxhole protecting your back, to use the military expression for a diehard buddy.
I’m going to try to keep connected to Lloyd and follow his adventures in Africa. Hopefully, he and Juanita will have many happy years together down there: he deserves it, for sure.
Another close friendship down the tubes! But I will carry on.
The thing that saves me, socially speaking, are the friendships that are close to home. I have been married to the same, wonderful woman for almost fifty years. We are different people in many ways, but we “click”. I also have sons that I regularly talk to and see on occasion. In addition, even though we are physically separated, I have a good relationship with my two sisters Kellie and Claudia and my brother Terry.
And, of course, I have three BFF’s living in the house with me: our Boston Terriers (Baby, BonBon, and Vinnie). I spend a lot of time with them and we talk about everything.
In summary, I make friends, I lose friends, and I move on, much like everything else in my life. The thing that saves me, in a social sense, is my family: it’s rock solid.
I’m a lucky guy to enjoy the friendships I have yet to squander.