How People Change
I recently had the pleasure of receiving a visit from an old friend. Let’s call him Steve. Steve and I met after our first year of college, during the summer. He went to a small state university, I went to a larger well-known college in a bigger city. We both did volunteer work with teens and we worked at the same beer bar at night. We both had long-term girlfriends. He was the socialist, I was the capitalist. He was political, I voted but was no activist. We had no fear, bombing around town (his town) on a moped, no helmets, sometimes with a drink or two in the hatch. I had to swim from the beach to rescue him when another friend’s boat capsized offshore; he wasn’t a good swimmer.
We kept in touch over the years, meeting up for the occasional dinner and definitely for drinks. We both liked that. For a while, he earned more than I did, working for the government. We helped each other out. He went through four long-term “life partners” so I had my work cut out for me. I traveled the world, working and living in easily thirty different countries. He made his first trip abroad at the advanced age of 40.
So you can imagine how pleased I was when Steve called me to say he was coming to visit me for 10 days – time to catch up, have a drink, have another one, eat good food, see the sites (I currently live in another foreign country). He would bring his current “life partner” and his child from a previous partnership, I think the third.
We got off to a good start. Visit to the beach, barbecue, more than a few drinks. Old times. But things took a turn. His partner, let’s call her Monica, told him she really liked my jeans, low cut and slim. Steve’s jeans were high-waisted and baggy, sort of 80s. He didn’t take that well. He didn’t have a cell phone, costs too much, so he couldn’t call when he got lost in the big city. He purchased local currency at home before coming here so when he ran out of cash, he was at a loss for what to do; I suggested he go to an ATM. Big problem – identity theft, extra fees…
Remember who’s the socialist? We eat fresh, never frozen, organic, local, whatever, because we can and it’s accessible. He took the tribe to McDonald’s (to the disgust of my daughter and son) twice! He took them to the dollar store for snacks and hid them in the bedroom (we had surrendered the master for the guest room).
I took precious days off work, not that working is precious but my relaxing time is. I offered to drive up to the mountains, up the coast, to no avail. Monica found it beautiful here and wanted to visit more. Steve preferred the theme parks so off they went.
The modern era also presented a challenge. Somehow Steve still uses a travel agency and ended up paying shitloads more than a regular airline ticket and included a stop-over in the RustBelt. Uploading his photos was a no-go (he had a small card) and he was amazed that our kids had Blackberries (and my iPad!).
I’m sorry, this is sounding like a rant, a never-ending rant. I could go on. What to make of it? Steve was a cool guy. We had great times together. I think he got stuck. Didn’t move on (except on the “life partners” side). Somehow he got stuck in the 80s.
You’re thinking I’m an elitist snob. Maybe. But people change, or don’t. We evolve, or don’t. We move in different directions. I don’t think Steve and I are going for a ride on the moped anytime soon. We’re not doing dinner, but drinks would be fine. I’m not supporting Monica on the jeans thing. The long term stay is definitely out. But Steve remains a great guy and a good old friend. Shit happens.
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How people change – or not
Posted by Reality Check on 7/10/10 • Categorized as Commentary
How People Change
I recently had the pleasure of receiving a visit from an old friend. Let’s call him Steve. Steve and I met after our first year of college, during the summer. He went to a small state university, I went to a larger well-known college in a bigger city. We both did volunteer work with teens and we worked at the same beer bar at night. We both had long-term girlfriends. He was the socialist, I was the capitalist. He was political, I voted but was no activist. We had no fear, bombing around town (his town) on a moped, no helmets, sometimes with a drink or two in the hatch. I had to swim from the beach to rescue him when another friend’s boat capsized offshore; he wasn’t a good swimmer.
We kept in touch over the years, meeting up for the occasional dinner and definitely for drinks. We both liked that. For a while, he earned more than I did, working for the government. We helped each other out. He went through four long-term “life partners” so I had my work cut out for me. I traveled the world, working and living in easily thirty different countries. He made his first trip abroad at the advanced age of 40.
So you can imagine how pleased I was when Steve called me to say he was coming to visit me for 10 days – time to catch up, have a drink, have another one, eat good food, see the sites (I currently live in another foreign country). He would bring his current “life partner” and his child from a previous partnership, I think the third.
We got off to a good start. Visit to the beach, barbecue, more than a few drinks. Old times. But things took a turn. His partner, let’s call her Monica, told him she really liked my jeans, low cut and slim. Steve’s jeans were high-waisted and baggy, sort of 80s. He didn’t take that well. He didn’t have a cell phone, costs too much, so he couldn’t call when he got lost in the big city. He purchased local currency at home before coming here so when he ran out of cash, he was at a loss for what to do; I suggested he go to an ATM. Big problem – identity theft, extra fees…
Remember who’s the socialist? We eat fresh, never frozen, organic, local, whatever, because we can and it’s accessible. He took the tribe to McDonald’s (to the disgust of my daughter and son) twice! He took them to the dollar store for snacks and hid them in the bedroom (we had surrendered the master for the guest room).
I took precious days off work, not that working is precious but my relaxing time is. I offered to drive up to the mountains, up the coast, to no avail. Monica found it beautiful here and wanted to visit more. Steve preferred the theme parks so off they went.
The modern era also presented a challenge. Somehow Steve still uses a travel agency and ended up paying shitloads more than a regular airline ticket and included a stop-over in the RustBelt. Uploading his photos was a no-go (he had a small card) and he was amazed that our kids had Blackberries (and my iPad!).
I’m sorry, this is sounding like a rant, a never-ending rant. I could go on. What to make of it? Steve was a cool guy. We had great times together. I think he got stuck. Didn’t move on (except on the “life partners” side). Somehow he got stuck in the 80s.
You’re thinking I’m an elitist snob. Maybe. But people change, or don’t. We evolve, or don’t. We move in different directions. I don’t think Steve and I are going for a ride on the moped anytime soon. We’re not doing dinner, but drinks would be fine. I’m not supporting Monica on the jeans thing. The long term stay is definitely out. But Steve remains a great guy and a good old friend. Shit happens.
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Tagged as: friendship, how people change