Phone Phears and Phriending

Thanks to Facebook, I found one of my good friends from high school.  He wasn’t actually lost.  I just misplaced him for the past 27+ years.  Rick and I shared limos rides to proms, crushes on unsuspecting girls, and the occasional Miller pony(s).  There’s a good chance that we’ve seen one another throw up from some ill-advised self-inflicted behavior.  I’m not sure.  After high school, we went our separate ways, as commonly occurs.  I headed south to become a Fightin’ Blue Hen at the University of Delaware, and Rick headed north to Ithaca College (“It’s Gorgeous”).  I visited him there once with another misplaced friend, John, and I remember eating the best deep-dish pizza of my life at The Chariot in downtown Ithaca.  The rest is pretty sketchy, but the remaining pixels of memory from the trip are all positive.  We had fun, that’s for sure (two words: Utica Club).

After recently friending one another, Rick posted a note on my wall.  “Call me to catch up at 732-555-5555”.  The note sparked a level of excitement at reconnection, but also the impending dread of performance.  The 27+ year catch up conversation can be an exercise in self-analysis, not unlike the process of choosing your own tombstone inscription.  (“This is Joe.  He worked, had a family, people tolerated him most days, and he sometimes tolerated them back.”)  This exercise forces one to sum up their life’s accomplishments and purpose in a mere 10-15 granite etched words.  Our final tweet, if you will.  In a similar fashion, the 27+ year catch up conversation forces one to sum up their life’s accomplishments and purpose in a mere 10-15 minutes of digital chatter.  In preparation for the call, we are required to take inventory of our adult lives, condense it to the big chapters, sprinkle in some highlights and key disappointments, and then shift the camera seamlessly to our opponent with the stock closing question, “So, what have you been up to?”  Have notes ready.

Did I just say ‘opponent’?  Perhaps this is why the feeling of dread comes into play.  The anticipation feels like the jitters before an important game.  Will my big chapters, highlights, and disappointments be bigger and better than his big chapters, highlights, and disappointments?  Scarier still, has my life for the past 27+ years matched the hopes and dreams that I revealed to my long misplaced friend while sitting in limousines and dorm rooms, around kitchen tables and bar stools?

Now I remember one of the reasons that I delayed joining the Facebook community…

Don’t get me wrong – I am happy with my choices and the results.  I have a loving spouse, 3 healthy kids, interesting work, fenced yard.  I’m not sure, but 27+ years ago when engaging in late night talks, laughing and daring one another about our futures, I don’t recall wife/kids/house/work as the stated pinnacle of my life’s ambitions.  Maybe it should have been, because this reality more than measures up to any youthful goals I might have set.  When I look at my kids, any potential inferiority I may feel headed into this digital steel cage match melts away.  I am up to the challenge.

‘So, what have you been up to?”