On friendship

With less than one percent of the Best Year Ever remaining, The Czech Republic just joined the BYE League of Nations (vítejte!). I wonder if they will be the last before time expires. Prague is one of my dream cities. It's a photogenic place and people who have been there say it is every bit as wonderful as it looks in pictures. I haven't been there yet, but one day I plan to down a pilsner at the U Medvidku Beer Hall.

So far in the BYE wrap party we've discussed lessons-learned about community, time, money and health in my year away from the regular working world. The last three lessons will delve into the subjects of craft, faith and success. Today's lesson concerns friendship.

The other day a good friend let me know I had let him down. I didn't mean to--I was just distracted. He had called me several times--most recently to invite me to go to a golf tournament with him. I have a valid excuse for not returning that call since I was out of the country at the time.

Teri reminded me several times over a period of several weeks to call him back. She had reason to believe my friend was struggling with a few things and needed a sympathetic ear.

I never did make that call.

When I was at his house for a party a few days ago, I apologized for not calling him back about the golf tournament invite, and I gave my alibi about being away on a cruise. He looked me straight in the eye and told me not returning that call was okay, but not returning the other calls wasn't.

Ouch.

I didn't go into it with my friend then since it's not a valid excuse, but I kinda have a thing with phones. I don't like to talk on them much. When I do talk on the phone, I want us to conduct our business and get the conversation over with as soon as possible. If we're together in person, I'll talk your ear off all day long. If you send me an e-mail, I'll bounce back to it right away. But phones? Not so much.

Making small talk over the phone is torture for me. I don't know why this is. It just is.

Special note to Mom: you are the one exception to this rule. I know what you're thinking, and I love both you and our phone conversations.

I'm a compulsive call screener. If I don't know the number or name of the person popping up on my caller ID, the chance I'll pick up is zero. If you call while I'm eating a meal or entertaining friends or writing or even lost in a good book, I won't bother to see who it is. Either Teri can answer or they can leave a message and I'll check voicemail later.

Not long ago I was at a gathering at the home of another friend. The phone kept ringing and my friend kept taking the calls, which interrupted our conversations and the flow of the evening. I found the string of intrusions to be jarring and strange. Some of my friends probably think it's equally strange when I ignore incoming calls during their visits to my home.

Teri also tries to screen calls, but she can no longer read the small print on the caller ID screen without her reading glasses, which are invariably laying somewhere out of reach. As the phone continues its insistent ringing, she stares at the screen with the intensity of an Etruscan haruspex attempting to divine the future from a collection of sheep entrails. A split second before the phone kicks over to voice mail, my frustrated wife picks up without having a clue who is on the other end.

This routine never gets old. Teri gets annoyed when I chuckle in amusement at this ongoing act of futility and farce, but I'm not going to stop laughing until she stops the behavior. Either answer it on the first ring or let the call go, dear, but the divination thing isn't working for you.

As I said, I didn't go into any of this with my friend when he called me out for ignoring him. I had no excuse for letting him down. I'm disappointed in myself because I've tried to be a better friend to all of my friends over the course of the BYE. I've had a few failures along the way, but I've had more successes. I'm pleased about that.

Mid-way through the BYE I lost my best friend in the world (other than my wife and soul mate Teri) to cancer. For over a decade, Callie the Wonder Dog, our golden retriever, was my constant and faithful companion. And best friend. Teri and I both miss her terribly.

That's a bit much, you might be thinking. A dog was your best friend?

Yes, absolutely!

Anyone who ever met her (and thousands did) knows Callie was more than just another dog. She was special. We picked her on a coin toss, a fateful flip of the coin for her and for us.

I could tell you a million stories about how special Callie was, but I won't do that here today. If you met her, you already know. If you never met her, please take me at my word.

You can define friendship any way you want, but I think the Bible has the best description of the attributes of love and friendship you can find anywhere. Careful readers of the BYE know I'm a believing Christian, although I've made it my policy not to moralize or Bible thump in this space. But today will you indulge me in quoting just a few verses from a modern Bible translation, just this once? I think even the discerning atheist readers among you will like them.

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance . . . Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.

That was my Callie. She was patient. She was kind. She was never boastful or jealous or proud or rude. She forgave every wrong committed against her. She was only demanding about going for walks or having a bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She was forever hopeful and endured every trial she faced. She was always there for me and for everyone else too.

Callie was the rarest of creatures. For her entire life she was loved and she gave love. She knew nothing else in the course of her existence. Can any of us say that? That we have known nothing but love every moment of our lives?

I aspire to be the same kind of friend Callie was to me. I'll never meet the standard she set. I'll never come close.

But I'm a better friend today than I was a year ago, and Callie would tell me I've made a good start. That's the kind of friend she was.