I have had some great friends in my day. So, if you aren't mentioned in this blog. To quote Yoda, "you will be. You ... will be." Probably. Unless you don't want to be.
And you will probably get cool names like my friends, Delilah and Drake. I mean, John and Jill. I always forget to use their fake names for the sake of the blog! So ... John and Jill ... are 2 of my really top, way up there, kinds of friends. They are great and no other words can describe them. So, allow me to try!
The legend goes back well over 40 years. (Remember, dear reader, I proudly told you I am 33? Well, I am!)
Drake -- I mean, John -- isn't even 40 yet, either.
The legend starts so early because our mothers are actually best friends. My mother and his mother have known each other since they were 14, as family lore has it. Best friends in high school, my mother can even remember when John's father came into the picture.
Funny story: It was the 1960s. They had all met in a burger joint, where people parked their cars and hung out. John's dad was a college student and our mothers were still in high school. Yeah -- I know -- scandalous! Bigger scandal? They let college boy drive around with them later in their car. Crazy! He was a stranger. Stranger danger! But, my mother -- the clever and ever-so-pure one -- put a purse in between John's dad and herself. When he asked if the purse had to stay there and she replied, "Yes," he knew he better go after the other girl. And, I believe John's parents have been together ever since!
John's mom and my mom have literally been through it all, and they don't even live near each other. They have survived a small soap opera's list of life problems -- aside from an evil twin. (Although, I've never quite trusted John. He's too good. There must be another.)
Which brings me to my point: John is pretty good. He's pretty cool. He would wear Noxema on his face as a teenager for an hour and whack tennis balls for his dogs to fetch, all while wearing orange shorts and a bandanna ... on his head. Getting a picture, yet?
Yeah, he was pretty nuts, all right. But, in that indelible, sweet kind of way. As a kid, he was fairly adventurous and always running around doing something. Teenage John used to hacky sack, play frisbee (ultimate style), and went tubing on a lake. And, he still does some crazy stuff. Don't get me started on how he runs. It annoys me.
He listened to fun music (and still does) and opened me up to new artists, like the Rustic Overtones and Ani DiFranco. And he still does that. I get CDs made for me! Sometimes, though, we still don't like the same taste in music. I will always like my pop songs! Don't try to change me, John!
Fun fact: he is the only person I really allow to ever call me "Gregory." It's on a birth certificate and that's about it, but he uses it ... regularly.
He "collects" and also just really likes anything and most things Star Wars. He's a tough customer, but one time, I was able to get him a T-shirt of Darth Vader from Gap Outlet of all places, which he actually liked. The annual Star Wars Christmas Card from John and Jill, which is staged and photographed with real toy figurines on a diorama is always an interesting form of artwork. "Christmas on Coruscant," a fave from two years ago, showed Obi-Wan as bartender and a fighter pilot break dancing. Chewie also seemed to be busting a move on the dance floor.
Through it all, he also has a super good heart, and is incredibly thoughtful. I could go on and embarrass him some more, but then I would miss out on his wife, Jill.
Oh, Jill. Jill is great. Now, when I met her, she only wore black, or shades of black. "Fifty Shades of Black" was my early nickname for her. (No, there was no nickname!) I first met her on my first full day of living and interning in Washington, D.C., for the summer. I had just turned 21!!! (Bring on the booze!) And we all were meeting up for dinner with tons of John's friends. Jill was a friend of a friend in the group and, for some reason, everyone thought it clever to sit her across from me. She didn't know anyone but her friend, and I didn't know anyone else but John. Now, you probably think that she talked my ear off all night, right? NOOOOPE! I am not even sure she looked at me. In fact, she probably didn't. How dare she? I'm stunning to look at!
The next time I saw Jill was on the 4th of July. In D.C., that day is just the most uncomfortable weather day of the year -- right next to every other summer day in D.C. It was close to 100 degrees and sunny and humid, and we sat completely in the middle of the National Mall. No trees, no shade, no service. And what did Jill wear, you ask? (You guys are such fashion mavens like me!) Yep, you guessed it! Jill wore black. And pants! I think black jeans! In summer! Brave woman! I think she may have talked a little, but conversation was definitely directed toward people she knew, which now seemed to have become John, also. Sounds like a couple had started!
The last time I saw her during that first summer was right after the completion of my internship. I was planning on staying with John for a few extra days and relaxing. There was still more in the city to see, and I was looking forward to it. Except on the day after I graduated from my program, my grandfather passed away. And Jill was there and was the sweetest person. She did small things, like make a dinner and say kind things. I think she even helped me change my flight and pack my luggage. I had bought way too much stuff to bring home. John also borrowed a car from his friend to bring me to the airport the next day.
This became known as yet another example of how John and Jill have been there for me. "They take care of you," one observer had noticed after seeing Jill shut something off in my kitchen. ("I think Greg meant to shut this off," she had said.)
They do take care of me. Never in a total parental way, though. But, they like to do things for me and with them.
They make amazing breakfasts. Jill is making cornmeal waffles today!
They suffer through something they don't always love, but I love, like when I see an outlet mall on the side of the road during one of our many road trips. (If not, I have usually grabbed the wheel and commandeered the vehicle. It's like a Dukes of Hazzard episode if they don't comply.)
They even helped me move from one apartment to Virginia to a new one. (I have helped move them, too!) They threw the goodbye dinner for me when I moved to New York. Jill and I hugged and cried a bit in front of my apartment when they had to say goodbye for the last night. John sniffled. ("He's not the type of guy who likes to cry, or say things, or do stuff" ... one of the many joke catch phrases we have in our clique.)
Hands down, these are people I love. John has been my brother for many, many years now. And Jill fast became a sister to me. In many occasions, I will take her side over his. Two against One! Plus, she eats seafood and drinks and her love of chocolate has been heard even by Tibetan monks. Jill frakkin' rocks!
What's the point of this story, you ask? Well, I have been the person I am -- in part -- due to these people. I love them, they love me. I have influenced them a bit, too. They tolerate and even like running a bit more because of me. They watch and love a TV show Archer because of me. Like any family, we have influenced each other, shared things with each other, and do things for each other. And it is good. Really good.
Love,
Me
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