And I’ll tell you why; when shit gets real, like when your wife says she doesn’t want to be your wife anymore and you find yourself with no home, and no job (because you were in a partnership) and no business (see the partnership bit again) and your car (unless you’ve gone full Weinstein) family and friends are all that is left. Not the 503 Facebook ‘friends’, I mean the ones who’ll bail you out at 4 AM, drive the getaway car or help bury a body.
I knew a woman who had friends coming out of her ass; Miss Popularity she was. Until her shit got real and all she was left with was three friends of which I was one.
Not just the shit times. Who wants to celebrate with strangers. They don’t know what the fuck you’ve gone through to get to that point where celebrating is required.
I remember at wedding #1 when my buddha-daughter (that’s the Goddaughter of a Buddhist), came running up to me before the ceremony to give me big hug. Brilliant. And at wedding #2 (which was billed as an engagement party but was actually a surprise wedding), she was the only one who really was surprised. Classic Ashleigh! And she shares my middle name but with the wrong spelling.
On the flip side, family and friends are the dudes I’d answer a 4 AM call from. Whom I’d bail out. Whom I’d rob a bank with. Whom I bury a body for. It’s a quid pro quo kind of thing. I like the vibe other cultures put on these relationships. With some, it’s formalised like motorcycle clubs (not gangs) or affiliations where brother- (or sister-) hood forged under immense pressure.
Some are because one of your ‘lations banged someone else’s ‘lation now you got to go bail out Nigel because he sure as shit ain’t got any friends. Some are because over a period of time you’ve discovered many similarities and been there for each other as shit got real. That’s how I got my brothers-from-other-mothers. They tend not to judge me. Or at least not post humiliating shit on Facebook. Which I (and you) appreciate.
There are two drivers here; my abhorrence of cowardice especially in men, and an experience of having a ‘friend’ desert me as shit was about to get very real. It happened at all places the Royal Easter Show. One of the carnies decided to debate me on the marital status of my parents prior to my birth. Apparently, he was none too happy that I could ring the bell several times in a row on the Strongman game, which cost him a small brass token – which I still have. The debate escalated quickly as I defended my parent’s honour. As the man dance continued I sensed that my wingman had bailed. A wingman has one job which must be upheld at his own peril. This was not a life v death situation however and the carnie was never really in grave danger. Sure enough, when I turned around I could see my friend running away. Twenty years later I stole his girlfriend – which I still have.
But why, Craig is everything else secondary to family and friends. Because, dear reader, no success, paid for with cash or bought with blood is worth anything if the spoils cannot be shared with those who love you. To quote Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin, 30 Rock), quoting Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman, Die Hard), misquoting Plutarch (a real Greek dude writing about Al the Great), “And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer. ”
How shit would that be.