“Make new friends but keep the old, some are silver and the others gold.” Did you sing this in music class too? No doubt my little girl hand clutched my bestest (at that moment) friend’s hand, as we sang with all our might. Once we enter the “adolescent years” friendships explode and burn like Jiffy Pop kernels. Alliances and stand-offs occur at every turn.
But then things (hopefully) normalize as we get older. We travel through adult life wearing many more hats than we did as students. We are workers, alumni, community members, spouses and parents. As we take new jobs or join new gyms, we shyly look for people with whom we might click. It’s exciting to discover a kindred spirit, particularly as we become even more individually defined. (Let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to find a classmate who shares your obsession with Harriet the Spy and Kit Kat bars, than it is an adult with whom you care to have lunch.) Sometimes a work friend is just that; someone with whom to share frustrations and gossip and maybe an occasional lunch. On the rare occasion a friend discovered in the workplace shares your sensibilities throughout your life. The same is true for friends found at the school gate, house of worship, or neighborhood. If you are lucky, there will be people in your life who transcend place.
Something most of us could never have foreseen is the impact of social media. The generation that created it could not even have predicted how it would impact those of us long passed paying off our student loans. Why would they? For them it was a great way to connect with age and class-mates. For those of us of a certain age it means our past has found us. On our own terms of course. If someone would had told me, ten years ago, that I would be in touch with the girl who taught me fractions, well, I would have looked at them as I looked at her when she tried to explain the difference between fourths and fifths. There are friends I have thought of throughout the years. Some I even Googled periodically. But today, through the magic of Facebook, like a good military commander, I can report that almost every person is accounted for. Almost without exception, most are doing wonderfully in their lives, and that is a joy to know. I have been reminded of the longevity of intellect and creativity. That girl who was so quick and so funny? She’s gotten even better. The woman at work who had more style than should be allowed? Nothing’s changed, and her daughter seems to have inherited it.
But what about all those found friends with whom a mutual interest in Wacky Packs, Dr. Pepper lip balm and the claymation of Mr. Bill, were the ties that bind? Is there much to discuss (on Facebook or in person) beyond, “Hey, there you are!” After a few awkward versions of “So, you’re like a grown-up now” is there anything left to say? Any connecting points whatsoever? What if it’s worse than that? What if through the public broadcasting of Facebook you discover your schoolyard chum is a bigot or invokes the name of their favorite deity far more frequently than your comfort level allows? What if they post photos of babies dressed as flowers or puppies playing football? Is the fact that you grew up within a mile of each other enough to sustain a friendship, even one in the virtual world? For better or worse, “unsubscribe” is as effective as not returning calls. I am almost never a fan of letting things go unsaid, but what is the point of a conversation that starts with; “I wish I never knew these things about you.” Luckily those incidences are a just a tiny fraction of the larger friendship pie; their denominator being larger (see! I did catch on eventually.) The vast majority of found friends are a gift I simply never could have foreseen. It has created a fluidity and continuity of life for which I am so grateful. When the very best part of your past can be part of your present; well, what a wonderful world it is.
Here She Is Boys 
Have A Nice Day
The third Monday of January has long been recognized as the most depressing day of the year. This no doubt refers to it being a day that collectively, most people find to be depressing. It should in no way mitigate the individuals’ own special personal days of bleakness. But, it is said, that like New Year’s Eve, Thanksgiving and the like, the third day of January is a shared celebration. No silly hats, champagne or mini-marshmallows, this communal experience has more to do with hiding under the covers. It is the day on which we presumably realize the extent of our December expenditures and the temporary nature of our resolutions.
Well the third Monday has come and gone, and it’s safe to say the gloom lingers. If December is the month of “goodwill towards man,” January is the month of “get the hell out of my way.” The general crankiness simply can not be ignored. Ordinarily I chose to react to Scrooge McDuckery with thoughts of “oh that poor man must not be feeling well.” I force myself to consider the health emergency that woman (screaming into her cell phone on the bus) must be having. I am now running out of scenarios and patience. Even dear Pollyanna would be exhausted at the end of January. When the grumpy old man visiting my upstairs neighbor cursed at me in the elevator, I actually cried. Even the sturdiest of us does not wither from an old man’s curse. When the woman pawing through boxes of shoes as if looking for hidden treasure, pulled them all down upon me, I got a little sad. When she told me to move because now the piles of boxes and crumpled me were in her way, I got a little angry. And that must be how it starts.
The artificially induced good cheer of December is gone. Bills have mounted, social events have dwindled, the news is filled with political sniping, and we did not succeed at quitting smoking and losing 20 pounds. We start our day cranky, and then we are forced into a world with other cranky people. Even in the virtual world, you can see a spike in snark, I have not conducted an actual study, but observations would suggest that tweets and blog comments today are as dark as 5:00 on a January afternoon. There you are, reading through a news site, interested in the (potentially) insightful comments made by other readers and BAM!: the equivalent of schoolyard taunting and/or graffiti appears. Never insightful, rarely humorous, these remarks are the equivalent of a toddler’s tantrum. “Look at me” they scream, “I am SO relevant.” Of course these small minded snarks are always around, but during other months they don’t appear often on serious news sites.
It’s January. I’m no groundhog, but I’m going to estimate we have at least two months left of winter. Might I suggest we take a collected cleansing breath. Let’s remind ourselves that it is January now but soon it won’t be. The bills will get paid, one way or another. Spring is always a better time to start a physical fitness regime. And the best way to make the world seem a little cheerier is to be a little cheerier. Smile at someone. Hold a door open. Let today be the day you do not stand in front of the subway door. Ask the tourist if they need directions. And remember, just because you have thought of a snarky comeback, doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud. If Clarence the angel paid you a visit today, don’t you really want to see all the people in your past not having their feelings hurt?
Posted by Anonymous on January 25, 2012 in Cultural Critique
Tags: blog comments, Brenda Tobias, Clarence the angel, kindness, Mr. Potter, new year resolutions, Pollyanna, Scrooge McDuck, snark, tweets