Friendships. Why and wherefore?

I was listening to the radio one morning, and they were doing an interview with a man named Billy Baker, who wrote a book about friendships. The book is called “We Need to Hang Out,” and it discusses his attempts to reconnect with various friends after discovering he had lost touch with many of them. It was a short segment, but it made me think a lot.

Some of my first friends in Nashville. Not all of whom ended up sticking around.

He mentioned the mere act of asking someone to hang out is a little bit vulnerable. And I can see that. You’re basically saying, “I want to spend my time currency on you. I would like to use many of my minutes on this Earth in your presence.” And what if you’re not as valuable to that person? What if they feel that their time currency is better spent elsewhere? Perhaps a dramatisation, but you are putting yourself out there, whether it’s a little or a lot.

Aristotle said that there are three types of friendships. The easiest and most common are friendships of pleasure and utilitarian friendships. Friendships of pleasure are like, “I love that guy, he always has the best stories,” or “she always brings something good to every party.” Utilitarian friendships are those of convenience. We both work and live in the same area, so we ride in together every morning. Our kids are the same age, so we have hangouts in each other’s yards. These friendships fade as our likes and interests, as well as those of our friends, constantly change. Whether we want to or not, we’re always evolving. As these friendships cease to provide a need or pleasure, we cease to invest in them.

I know I’m not getting rid of these two. Invest in Scorpios if you can.

Aristotle goes on to describe the “Perfect Friendship.”

“Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good and alike in virtue; for these wish well alike to each other qua good, and they are good themselves. Now those who wish well to their friends for their sake are most truly friends; for they do this by reason of own nature and not incidentally; therefore their friendship lasts as long as they are good-and goodness is an enduring thing.”

Basically, you like someone because of the good you see in them, and they like you because of the good they see in you. This isn’t based on what the other person can do for you or how they make you feel about yourself. You’re there for them at their best and worst and they for you. These are the people for whom you would fly around the country at a moment's notice if they were in distress. These are the people who will answer your call at three in the morning. And you’ve hung on long enough together that you are both assured of your mutual like. You’re free to just like each other and be there for each other.

Lindsey was my best friend in England. She was the only one who checked on me when I hadn’t emerged from my room in three days. She stood by me when I was attacked by other people. She and I planned an entire Mardi Gras ball together. And we made money. (Ten pounds each, but hey!) I got to see her once more when I went back to visit after finding her through LinkedIn and since then I’ve lost touch. I truly miss her.

I was shy for many of the younger grades and had only a few friends. (One of whom I met when we were ten and we are still friends to this day.) I grew out of this gradually as I got older and began jumping into different activities: theatre, track, yearbook, art, etc. I didn’t have a problem making friends and there was always something going on. 

I’ve had five major moves throughout my adult life, and always managed to make friends. Some have stayed friends with me as I’ve moved on to other places, some were just wonderful while I was there. There are some I lost touch with in the ‘early days’ before email and social media were so prevalent that I really regret and miss. I’ve obviously tried to find them, but their names are either too common or they weren’t on social media much.

I’m lucky that I have a handful of people that I count as ‘perfect friends.’ That’s fantastically lucky! Is it weird that I always look for more? 

When I was a very young child, I had bad luck with friends. I was often the one discarded. Sometimes it was outside of my control. I remember two friends, Audrey and Amy in kindergarten and first grade who moved away. At that time and at that age, there was no keeping in touch, although I remember asking my mom about them and her having to explain why we couldn’t go visit. The feeling was the same. They left. They moved on. In reality I have no idea if they were actually pining for me too. From first to third grade, I had a few fairweather friends, who liked me until I became unpopular (I was weird. I used to pretend to be a horse on the playground and I was very sensitive and cried easily) and therefore made them unpopular by association. The rejection still stung. And I became very careful about who I befriended. And I refused to call anyone a ‘best friend.’

This was an awesome play. I genuinely enjoyed everyone in it. I’m still Facebook friends with most of these people. One or two of them interact with me more personally occasionally.

I was also in theatre for decades. I’m very familiar with the ‘pleasure’ and ‘utility’ friends. Theatre people are often fun, creative, intelligent and involved in a myriad of interesting things. You’re smacked together for hours at a time for weeks on end. You become fantastic friends during that time. If you get lucky, a few of these friendships endure. More often than not, they become Facebook friends and you just get invites to their future plays and not much else.

I’ve held many different jobs. I’ve been a sales assistant for a magazine that you’ve definitely heard of. I’ve been a Penguin at Winter Wonderfest on Navy Pier.  I’ve been in commercials. I’ve been an expense auditor. I’ve been a legal assistant (twice). I’ve been a group fitness instructor. I’ve been an executive assistant. I’ve been a martial arts teacher. I’ve been a professional temp. I’ve been the general manager of a gym. I’ve been a writer. I’ve been a yoga teacher. I’ve been a barista. I’ve been a health coach. I’ve been a bartender. I’ve been a publishing assistant. I’ve been a personal trainer. I’ve also cleaned out newly constructed houses, painted railings, mucked out stalls, etc. Things change. You adapt.

I feel like this has made my “person antenna” especially sensitive. I feel the potential for perfect friendliness sometimes. But I still fear the rejection I experienced in my youth. I’ve always been the ‘let’s get together!’ person. Even in pandemic times, I’m the one trying to organize the Zoom meeting, the phone call, the Google Hang-Out. But I can feel myself trying once or twice. Then letting go. 

Brandon was my best friend once. We moved from Louisiana to Chicago together. He always made stupid faces in photos. But I have no idea where he is anymore.

I’ve become very good at letting people go. I really like them, but they must not like me the same way, I think. I will not bother them. 

But what if other people are just scared to be vulnerable? What if they’re just really bad at saying “let’s hang out”? Or what if they just expect me to do it after all this time?

What’s interesting to me is that it all still applies.

Even in this time of social distancing and virtual hangs, the friendship vulnerability is still very live. I still regularly talk with my best friend from back home. I still talk with two in Chicago. I still call or Facetime my parents recently and there are a few friends here that I still talk to. Not as many. I had great neighbors when we first moved here, and I tried to keep in touch, but they didn’t reciprocate and so I stopped. And they never reached out.

I did have a couple of neighbors who every now and then ping me on social media. And they launched a business and said they were doing dinner deliveries one night to raise funds and Dean and I participated. Will they end up being ‘perfect friends’? I’d like to think so. But we’ll see.

I’ve organized countless zoom calls, hang outs, group meets, etc. And I know that part of that is just who I am. But there is a part of me that wonders, am I that ‘perfect friendship’ or am I that ‘pleasure friendship.’ Am I dispensable in that I just bring in a welcome distraction every once and a while or do they actually like who I am? I don’t know.

This jagoff will always be my friend. I can’t get on the phone with him unless we both have two hours to spare.

And I’m not sure that any of us knows. It’s part of that vulnerability

This is one thing I do know. You can’t have enough friends. If you’re the one always waiting to be asked, try to be brave and occasionally be the asker. I think everyone loves feeling like someone else wants to spend time with them.

I wonder if they world would be different, if we would en masse be healthier and happier, if we all just reached out more and had more friends.