Time

Lately I've been thinking more and more about the passage of time - and also the value of friendship - which I guess is completely age appropriate.  As I've discussed, one of the biggest factors (of many) that shaped the decision not to accept the job in Hong Kong was the thought of losing contact (almost certainly - even though we always fool ourselves that we'll keep in touch) with the extraordinary circle of friends that I'm blessed to have.  I just really struggled with the thought of starting all over again at age 53 by myself.  As a natural consequence of that I've become even more determined to spend time with my friends.  It's a big year for long-time friend anniversaries.  In 2014 I will have been friends with David Kelley for thirty years and with Jack Schultz for forty years.  Staggering.  This summer would also have been my thirtieth wedding anniversary, so there are also some sad reflections on the passage of time.  Recently I had the chance to spend some time with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Doug Knerr, who was passing through Burlington.  I made Doug for the first time in the fall of 1982 when we were both starting graduate school at the University of Cincinnati.  He's one of those people that you feel an instant connection with, and we've been close friends ever since.  My memory of when we met -which my class readings in Linden and Hock would convince me is probably incorrect - represents that quick camaraderie.  I remember walking into McMicken 222, the old graduate history office, and being greeted by a bunch of people I didn't know.  One of the older graduate students asked me how my summer went and I replied "cruel," which was an homage to the Banarama song of the same name that was popular that year.  Essentially, I was just being a smart ass, while also wondering if I had made the right decision to go to graduate school.  Everyone stared at me like I was a lunatic, with the exception of another first-year student, the aforementioned Doug Knerr, who looked at me over the newspaper he was reading with this instant recognition look of "we're going to get along famously." And we have.

And here we are on the deck of the Saint John's Club.  It may have been thirty-two years, but we picked up the conversation as if it were the first day.  It would have been perfect if we had been able to grab carry-out Skyline Chili to eat at the old, sadly deceased, College Inn bar or maybe a burger at the City View Tavern.