Over the course of my lifetime I’ve been very fortunate to acquire a couple friends- well, I can count all my friends on one hand. Those being spoken of may not even know who they are, one or two probably do. Of course my life is fortunate as well, to have many friendly acquaintances. Having said that, it might be appropriate to define what I consider to be a friend- purdy much he would not be the one you call when you’re in jail, he would be the one in jail with me uttering some such garbage like, “wow, that was fun”! You've heard it before. Then I’d call a bail bondsman. You see, friendship to me, is a great responsibility and because of this, it is possible to have too many friends, it just doesnt' work. For me, there is no such thing as a best friend. Fortunately, we aren’t always allowed the privilege to pick and choose our friends- sometimes they do this for us. In this respect, I am one DLB, meaning dirty lucky bastard. Perhaps the point has been made, well, at least one out of the three of you reading this will get it.Today, I’m thinking of one such friend, and extrodinary fella, whom I’ve ignored for a few months. How fucking rude is that- notice the lack of a question mark. But I have to explain (somewhat) the circumstances, as life itself, is somewhat of a circumstance. This particular friend has passed all (circumstantial) tests of moral fortitude, and true character, it’s been tried through and through- and it's being tried some more. But I know without a shred of doubt that this particular “lowdown” friend is worthy of much more recognition than I presently allow. But he’s there now, was yesterday, and will be next week and next year- he might not know it yet, but he is. I have to mention that I consider his father one of the same, although not “lowdown”. To explain lowdown- it comes from a skiing style, well almost, his stance on skis is low to the snow- I once broke my hand trying to keep up with the little shit.
You see, I’m a pilot. Or I used to be. A certain medical condition has caused some complications to the extent that my wings don’t work like they used to. At least for the time being, the ol’ wings are drooping, and presently still losing a few feathers. I’ll take the liberty- woe is me. Damn right I can. Anyway, this particular “lowdown” friendship I am thinking of was initially based on flying (and all that entails). It’s interesting to note that over 20 years ago I was his flight instructor, yet I probably learned more from him than he did from me. There is something “grass hopper” like in that remark. To teach is to learn? Anyway, and at any rate, I don’t care to share that flying connection with him or anyone else, anymore. And when we share time, it's hard to avoid the topic. That’s ok, and fair enough. And if you’ve been or are a “real” pilot, there’s really not much more to be said, except, the day will come when that will change. No matter what, all things change, except the character of a real friendship.
