Canned Cheese and Whiskey

I have been fortunate enough in my life to have formed some very close and binding friendships. While I do not have hundreds of friends, maybe not even dozens, the ones I have are exceptionally dear to me. I am part of two groups of friends, one set from my highschool and college days and another set of more recent aquaintances culled from work, social interactions, and through other friends. The first set of friends and I share a history that spans some 25 years. These men and I stay in touch, travel across the country to see each other and generally keep up with each others lives. Alas, most of the group from years ago have moved away and made lives for themselves in diverse parts of the world, San Fransisco, Dallas, etc. Ironically I was the only one not from around this corner of the rural midwest, having arrived in "BFE Ohio" when I was 11 years old, yet I am the only one still here. One of these men, Chris, was gone from my life for nearly 10 years in the 80's and 90's, I was married, he had his own small business and we did not interact much. Then, suddenly in 2000 he called and said he was back in my little corner of Ohio, tucked into the cornfields, and we should get together.

The friendship from the old days blossomed anew and we became closer than ever. We spent a great deal of time together, playing guitar, discussing politics and history (he has a degree in history, I have years of watching the history channel and reading civil war books), we would go to bars together and be each others wing man. He was there for me when I went through a brutal break up with my finace. He held my hand and listened to me cry, he patiently let me express my anger, heartbreak and fear. He helped me to keep it together and made sure I made it home safely after drinking myself into oblivion in an effort to kill the pain.

I was there for him when he needed a break from the country life he was living on the family farm. I drove him where he needed to go since he doesnt drive. I was there for him as much as I could, and opportunity allowed. We are friends, the best kind of friends, like brothers. There is a quiet love between us, the kind that men have for each other and is usually subdued and runs like a deep river underground, not overt, but love nontheless.

Chris recently got a job as media support for an alternative news organization that concerns itself primarily with affairs in central and south America. Thus, last week, he got on a jet and left for Mexico, exact location undisclosed. I don't even know when I will hear from him again, let alone when he might be home. This sort of adventure is exactly what he likes to do, he loves the culture and people of the latin states, and has often travelled there. He speaks Spanish well and he will be fine, it is good for him.

At least in theory it is good for him, since journalists for this organization have been harrassed, beaten, detained, but fortunately never shot or made to vanish. I have had some concerns regarding the fact that the job could be dangerous, but I love him, so I support his decision, but I dont have to think it is a great idea. Mostly I am just unhappy becuase he is gone agian, I lost him once, and find myself generally unwilling to let him go.

We got together for a last visit one night not long ago, it was classic Phresh and Chris, just like old times. After some discussion on how we should spend the evening, we decided it would be a good idea to load up on snacks, like an adolescent slumber party. We came home with chips, crackers, canned cheese (I love ez cheeze), artichoke dip, pizza rolls, and plenty of ice. It so happened that I was nearly out of beer, and money, so the only intoxicating beverage in the house was a bottle of Kentucky burbon. No problem, I like burbon and coke, the night began. We laughed and talked and got stoned on whiskey. We played our guitars and listened to music till the early morning hours. The canned cheese was a big hit, and we happily munched on pizza rolls and chips all the while gamboling joyously in the warm glow of friendship. It was a good time and the last such time for the forseeable future.

Memory of this night will carry me till I see him again. He will get busy working and so will I, time will pass quickly, too quickly and one day we will both be older, but it will be like no time has passed at all, we will still be close friends as if he never went away. I am going to miss him, I miss him already, but if he survives the Mexican jungle and the dangerous assignments, he will be home someday. I hope he knows I am thinking about him.