October 31, 2018, Prescott-
Halloween was low key, at least tonight.
Twenty people happened by my solitary, if well-lit, table on our quiet street.
It was full-blast, over the weekend, though
I went to one party, with my co-workers,
and it was the most heartfelt event.
My appreciation goes to friends in Phoenix and Scottsdale,
whose parties I missed.
See you next October, as things stand now.
That brings me to the main point of this piece.
I no longer rank order my friends.
I no longer have most favourite restaurants,
coffee shops, places to visit.
I am finding too much of merit,
in too many places,
and with too many people.
Someone asked me,
not long ago,
who my best friend was,
and why I didn’t speak to that best friend,
on a daily basis?
In truth, I have many friends
and I may speak to them,
as needed.
My friends are,
quite frankly,
both human and spirit.
Usually, it is the spirit friends
who tell me I need to be
nicer to the humans.
I take that admonition seriously.
Back to the idea of favourites.
We rank order, in this life,
for reasons particular to the person
doing the ranking.
We want to have reliable people,
on whom we might call,
in a time of need.
We enjoy a certain barrista’s latte
or a given baker’s quiche or breads,
or a pasta chef’s lovingly made spaghetti bolognese.
We love how the vegan lady downtown
makes such delectable soups.
I might miss the teasing of a cerebral friend, uptown,
or my brother’s sometimes caustic, but always on-point, admonitions.
I might just need the affirmations of a devout Christian friend,
who understands me, better than most.
I may want to connect with friends in Alberta, Alaska,
or Alsace.
None really is superior to the others.
Maybe, I am reaching a point of true unity.
It has come hard, and I am still working
on my sticky point:
That consistency of presence thing.
It even happened this evening.
Little “S”, for whom I’d give my life,
snuck up to my Halloween table,
whilst I was bidding farewell
to a 9-year-old vampire.
“Trick or treat”,
followed by the world’s most beautiful
toothy smile, brought me back
to front and center.
She wanted to visit my table,
before putting on her witch’s hat.
“S” and her mother made my evening.