I came back, about two hours ago, from an absolutely delightful evening, where 45 people celebrated the successful career, and retirement (transition into second career) of the woman who is the driving force behind Slow Food Prescott.  Her whirling dervish approach to life is very closely approached by the energy and drive of her husband of over 30 years.

I have many women friends.  Most of them are in committed relationships with fine people, who treat them the way I treated my late darling Penny. Those who are “unattached” know that I care for them as people.  Romance is a dicey thing, though, and can’t be forced.

My best women friends are affectionate in their speech, using terms like “Baby”,”Sweetie”, “Honey”, the way a lot of waitresses use such terms- in coquetry, and with genuine, nonsexual love for the person whom they are addressing.  They are people on whom I can depend in time of need, but I am not their lover.  I, too, use terms like “Sweetheart”, “Angel”, and “Precious”, in addressing women I have known for at least six months- not as a patronizing and demeaning term, but as a sign that I value them.

My women friends are, mostly, huggers and touchers.  A few prefer the handshake, and that’s just fine.  I can trust them every bit as much as the rest of my friends.

Women make good friends, to me, because they are essentially kind, honest and take a sisterly or daughterly interest in my world.  I  get along fine with men, but our relationships, other than those with my son, brothers and nephews, are MOSTLY professional and businesslike.  I can’t envision a world in which I have no women friends.