Friday, May 21, 2004

of mud and friendship

Today I have to go back into the City at lunch to pick up a few things, and then at 5:30, I’m rushing out to load up the bike and ride (in the truck) north to Nowhere, for an adventure. If nothing else, I get to spend time with some of my favorite people on the planet.
Last year on the Sheetiron, the boyfriend was being a pain and decided he wanted to split on Sunday, to do the hard splits, I frantically did everything in my power to make sure that we “ran into” James and Jason at breakfast, so I could have someone to ride with. I knew they would not let me down, and they sure took care of me, cheerfully.

This seems pretty descriptive of my experience: the boys come and go and there’s always a bit of distance between us, but my friends are like gold to me, they rely on me and I rely on them. It seems like these days I rely on others more than I used to. Is this because I’m growing up and learning interdependency? Is it because of my motorcycles, and a whole world of mechanical knowledge that only comes in small bits?

Is it just because I’m a shit dirt rider?

Generally, I’m really good at knowing who is in on this with me. Who’s sharing these core values with me and my friends. Who will be there, who will treat me the way I would treat my friends.

But lately I’ve been blindsided twice by Badness, in the guise of a good friend.

First off, I’m completely disgusted by these people. I know I’m not the only one who has high standards for how a friend treats a friend. But in each case, these weren’t even particularly high standards, just the damn basics here!
You disgust me, go back to the rock you crawled out from, go align yourself with other small men. Do not bother the people who would treat you as a true friend.

Secondly, is my compass failing? I have always been a stellar judge of character. I don’t open up to people easily, and when I do, it’s generally been after I know they are with me on this. And I’m almost never wrong, Except, lately, twice… What the hell is wrong with me? Now I’m worried.

If my compass never works again, if I can no longer trust my judgment, I have enough in the friends I have now. They’re my heroes, and they’d pick me up a million times and make me carry myself through hell and high water. (or mud, as it may be)

And to those other two I say:
You are the smallest man I have met in a very very long time. Your selfishness and cowardice disgust me. I can’t tell whether you recognize this about yourself or not. I don’t care. Everyone else will recognize soon enough how very pathetic you are.

I, however, am through, and I’m off to play in a mud puddle with my pals.

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