Old Friends

I met my friend Mark in the 3rd grade. He had moved from Jamaica, Queens, after things in late 60s NYC became a bit dicey. He had a very cool toy -- you poured some kind of liquid plastic (probably completely toxic) into an electric mold, and out came a rubberized play object. He gave me probably 30 red chameleons he had made. They turned up all around our basement for years. We bonded.

Mark and I were probably the leaders of our non violent, only mildly criminal Long Island gang. The core group was Mark and his best friend, Gerry, a/k/a Fitz, and my best friend Eric. Also, my oldest friend Mike, who could have been an Olympic gymnast had he pursued it instead of beer, was a member, as well as our friend John. The 5 of us palled around all through grade school, junior high, and high school.

In high school, I spent more and more time with the Advanced Ed kids -- those headed to universities, and careers in law and medicine. My friend Kenny is in that number. But Mark and I go back to early childhood...

In high school, we had a transfer student named Rita come to our high school. Rita had enough of Catholic school. She and Mark started dating, and they're together still. Both came from pretty large, Catholic families, and neither wanted kids of their own. But the Big Man had other plans -- in her late 30s, Rita got pregnant. And their son Joe was born -- he's now a 1L at St. John's Law in Queens. He's a delightful young man.

Mark got an engineering degree, and jokes that he has had the same desk for 30 years and worked for 10 different companies. Rita works for Nassau County. They have a wonderful life together, with one wrinkle. Rita wants to travel. Mark is very happy to never travel. But, amazingly, Rita convinced him to take a Spring Break trip to Key West and Miami, and yesterday we got together. It was wonderful.

I brought in lunch from Joanna's, and we ate and caught up. Wifey joined us after a dental appointment. We walked around the 'hood, and the three LI ers marveled at the tropical foliage, and peafowl strutting around.  I then took them to Matheson Hammock, and pointed out local geography.

Afterwards, we headed to Whip N Dip for ice cream, before they left for Miami Beach, and the first of a two night stay. Hopefully we'll meet tonight for dinner.

I was pretty close to Mark's mother, Grace, who died last year. She was a favorite of my Dad's, too -- a very bright and educated woman, who was very involved with our group. Rita's parents died when she was very young, and I've been an orphan nearly 7 years.

Of our gang of 5, Gerry and Mike's mothers are the only ones alive. The fathers all died much younger. Mark's Dad was 63, like my beloved father.

I got such a warm feeling being around such long time friends. We all recall times when the only responsibilities were passing school and having a great time. I guess that was true freedom.

Joe knew, but I reminded him he was an accident. I also reiterated how lucky it is that he's the opposite of a screw up. He has launched well -- even has a nice, serious girlfriend.

Willie Nelson's great song came to mind -- funny how time slips away. Being with such old friends really makes that clear.