On Friendship...

With three decades behind me I’ve picked up my fair share of friends most of whom are alive and kicking to this very day. I'm proud of that. What follows is an overly intimate look at some the surprises I’ve sustained over the years in this oft noble quest. Having to have learned each of these seemingly obvious lessons the hard way - over and over - well, I'm not too proud of that...

Friends and friendly acquaintances are not the same

Having lived on a small street in Brooklyn with two sniff-happy dogs and, more recently, with two doll-happy little girls I’ve become the quasi-mayor (or moto after a hard night and/or bad hair day). I like knowing each face if not each name, although the pressure to be “on” can become tiresome. What I often forget is that just because someone is talking to me doesn’t mean we are friends. I’ve giggled at T-shirts with this saying but only recently realized the joke was on me.

With real friends, you can be you. You can tell inappropriate jokes without fear; you can poke fun at ill-conceived wardrobe choices and still attempt to borrow money; you can expect to see your Cuban contraband to be returned (from their humidor) even after they move into the suburbs. You can't or at least shouldn't do this with acquaintances and believe you me, losing Cuban cigars never gets any easier.

Friendships are necessarily, and by necessity, resilient

I hate getting so busy with life (and the responsibilities that come with it) that I lose touch with most anyone I care about, including and my very own wife. I hate it even more when my friends are so busy with their lives that they lose touch with me. I’m constantly fighting off disappointment over unreturned phone calls or e-mail reply intervals that span weeks if not months. I fight off the fear that grows from this unchecked feeling that I or, worse, that they are a bad person or at the very least a bad friend by attributing this poor form on some uncontrollable force. With each passing day, there seem to be more of these incontrollable forces and since they control me to, I'm getting learning grace at enjoying those rare moments when it actually all comes together (i.e., when I actually get to see my friends - any of them).

Friendships evolve and that’s (got to be) OK

I am constantly shocked when my own friendships experience ups and downs. I see it happen to others (especially on TV) where fights and/or misunderstandings and/or unchecked jealousies irretrievably ruin or temporarily tarnish relationships but I am always awed when it happens to me because, quite honestly, most of my drama happens at home (with my wife) – not with my friends. Given this dramatic absence, dismay runs through my head and heart when I witness a changing dynamic.

At first I tried to deny or worse, resist the (often correctly) perceived change in scope often going to great if not absurd lengths to keep things as they once were. Over time, however, I’ve learned first-hand that swimming with the current is much easier on the body if not the mind. Something about birds and letting them fly...

To deal with each of these three invariable, unassailable truths about modern-day friendships, I’ve created, using Microsoft Excel, a coping tool that only an OCD MBA could truly appreciate. The file is called “David’s Mighty Rolodex” and it houses the names, numbers, and e-mails of the 1,000+ folks in my circle of friends.

Here’s where the OCD part comes in: not only do I actually note the last time either I contacted them or they contacted me but I’ve created a tickler that alerts me whenever contact (on either side of the equation) goes beyond a pre-determined maximum number of days. This maximum varies by where we are in our friendship life cycle: my nearest/dearest get a 30 day reprieve whereas those with whom I are merely friendly (mean mayor) get far more reasonable 180. Do I ever let these ticklers go unattended? Sure, all the time but boy does it somehow makes me feel good to be able to monitor (given I can’t and don’t really want to control) the communication.

Sadly and ironically, I’ve spent as much time creating and optimizing this digital template than I’ve actually spent with most of my friends. In some ways that's OK because it gives me something to do while those uncontrollable forces take hold of my friends. Perhaps Bill Gates has some time since he retired. I wonder if he has a humidor?