Nothing says "Christmas" like Nefarious Monkeys!

Going through some old files and found some funny correspondence between friends. Here is a great Christmas card from my old friend, Braveheart. My friend now practices psychiatric medicine in Austin, TX. You can see the beginnings of his twisted mind back when we were just college kids.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Cyber D

If I had but one wish this holiday season, it would be for an unholy army of robot monkeys to do my nefarious bidding. If I had but two wishes, I'd either go for more monkeys or more wishes. But if I got more wishes, a wish for you two to have a wonderful holiday season together with each other and those you love would be right on up there with some D-Line help for the Cowboys.


Merry Christmas!
Braveheart

Long Time No See

In the fall of 1992 I was a young lad venturing forth into the great unknown. I was headed off to college and the only other person I had even spoken with was Gyuss. We were to be freshmen roommates so we had called each other to talk about color patterns for linens and the appropriate scent of potpourri as well as our preference for antiques versus modern furniture. But other than that, I knew not a single soul on campus. Shortly after our arrival on campus Gyuss and I began to make friends.

College is such a great time for friendship - with almost no limitations. I don't think I ever pondered how many people I would be able to keep up with in the long run. You lived in the moment. Looking back there have been some that I wonder about and regret not keeping in better touch. You know those people in your life, don't you? Let's see... like the girl next door that ended up becoming an exotic dancer, the crazy nerd that ended up inventing the ipod, or the whacky dude that always cracked you up with his bizarre yet side-splitting sense of humor.

It just so happens that I've run into that "funny guy" again and he has his own blog... 4 blogs in fact! So go check out Robert's stuff at Too Much Time On My Hands. I don't want to oversell his comedic genius but reading his work was an instant reminder of his off-beat funn-ac-ity... is that a word?

Behind the Scenes

In keeping with a format that good ol' Dagromm started a few months back, I thought I would share a little behind the scenes action between me and The Q.

-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Date: Thursday September 20, 2007 11:35 AM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Why the fuck will my comments not post on your blog? I've tried to comment like four times and none of them have registered!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Date: Thursday September 20, 2007 11:38 AM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Fixed it

You were marked as spam. I blame Gus Bladder again for that


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 12:03 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

I blame gus bladder for the price per barrel of gasoline being what it is today. Bastard!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:11 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Dude, just a heads up. Our Fantasy Football Team SUCKS!


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:13 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

What are you talking about? We've got it made... just a little tweak here and there and we've made it... by the way... your blog is blocking my comments still!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:14 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

No, I just hate you


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:15 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

You better fix that shit or there's going to be hell to pay!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:16 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Smoke


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:17 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Don't even think about it.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:18 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

My


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:19 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Don't you dare.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:20 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Pole

-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:21 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Damn it! Reeeeeeally subtle, Q-dog.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 4:12 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Dude that is what I am known for. Well that and the stalking. Well those two and that indecent exposure thing. Whatever


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2004 4:59 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Good times, good times...

The Mind of Man - Part 2

This is an excerpt of an email my old college friend, Braveheart sent to me yesterday. Braveheart and I have known each other for more than a decade and while we only talk three or four times a year it is amazing that we have almost identical taste in television and perhaps viewpoints on the meaning of life.



"...A few years ago I'd been on call for 3 or 4 days. I ended up working like 100 hours that 7 days prior or something crazy. Hadn't been home in 3 days. I finally came home, nothing to do for the next 2 days straight, and my wife was out of town for the weekend. So I sit down on my couch, wiped out, I turn on the TiVo, and there before me (because I hadn't watched TV in 10 days or so) sat recorded new episodes that I hadn't seen of the Sopranos, Carnivale, Deadwood, South Park, maybe a Venture Brothers, the Simpsons, a BSG, a Firefly that I missed the first time around, and the Family Guy. Plus there was even a second tier of stuff, like some History Channel's greatest disasters, Mythbusters maybe, or some other stuff.

I turn off the TV without starting any of them, go upstairs and sleep for 12 or so hours straight. Wake up around 3PM. Go out and buy a 6 pack of Guinness, a big ass bucket of KFC, and Ben+Jerry's. Came home, sat on the couch, with the above mentioned items, a trash can, and a roll of paper towels. Turned on the TV and . . . . People always say that your wedding is the best day of your life until your kids are born, and then that day is the best day of your life. I love my wife, and I'm sure I'll love any kids I have, but honestly? When I lay alone at night, between me and my maker, those next hours were . . . Yeah."


The best day of a man's life... Indeed.

Greater than the sum of the parts... and the parts are pretty damn good.

Everyone should have friends like these. Quad weekend 2007 was an event to remember. Even Pokiman came up for the festivities and it wouldn't have been the same without him. Each of us brings a unique aspect to the group that is sadly missing when one of us isn't there. How is it possible for five guys, who collectively see each other once a year, to get together and pick up where we left off without skipping a beat?

It really is like slipping back in time to a place where life was much simpler, important things had no meaning, and meaningless things were of paramount importance. I haven't laughed like that in... well... a year! I'll be the first to admit that the weekend was filled with all manner of sophomoric humor, but it is the familiarity with which we deliver our punch lines, react to each other's jokes, and drift on to the next one-liner that is so appealing. I seriously think there were a couple of times that we hardly had to say a word... a simple glance would suffice and we were all falling out of our chairs.

Some may ask if it was anything more than just one big time-waste. I'll tell you that it wouldn't have been the same if it was anything else. Lord knows this isn't Oprah's book club. What I find so fascinating is how our interests continue to mirror each other, even when so many years have passed by. Did we become friends way back then because we were of such similar spirit, or did the friendship of our youth help to mold us into the people we are today? Perhaps it is a little bit of both.

I thought about coming up with a great piece of comedy to capture the essence of this weekend with my friends, but I don't think it would have done justice to how important these guys are to me. So I'll take a moment and risk being serious to simply say that I had a blast with Dagromm, Gyuss, Pokiman, and Q. It was nothing but pure undiluted fun to be together again.

Thanks to Dagromm for hosting the event, to Gyuss for shelling out mad-cash in order to travel great distances, to Pokiman for freeing up his usual weekend work obligations, and to Q for showing up with clothes on.

See you next summer for Quad weekend 2008!

Friendship

I have to admit that I knew it was only a matter of time for Dags, Q, and Gyuss to see the error of their ways. My agent told me that the phone had been ringing non-stop all week. To be honest I probably would have rejected the gesture if it wasn't for the gift basket of assorted cold-cuts. That was a nice touch. I digress. The upshot of this entire thing is that The Quad just isn't The Quad without me and they humbly asked me to re-take my rightful place in the group. I know we've had our differences but we are putting the past behind us (even though they started it).

Just to make sure there were no hard feelings I checked in with The Rock. Little did The Quad know, but we have each other on speed-dial. All he said was to "watch out for the jello, and that he was moving to Singapore just to get some distance." I'm not sure what that means but I know I'll find out soon enough.

Now... as a tribute I'd like to share one of my most favorite songs from those rock-ballad-all-stars... Tenacious D.



"Oh Happy Day!"

Twas the Season...

Few opportunities of genius have presented themselves in my life. This one is a classic. Back in the fall of 1995 one of my roommates (Braveheart) insisted on holiday decorations. I'm not a big fan of this, simply because I am too lazy to put shit up around the apartment. However, I was always a big fan of pissing-off our other roommate (Urban Cowboy).

It just so happened that Cowboy hated this spider decoration that Braveheart had hung over the ceiling light in our living space. Any time you clapped your hands the thing would start humming this high-pitched squeal and it would shimmy and vibrate for a good sixty seconds, only to be awoken again by the next clapping of the hands. He complained about the damn thing for the entire month of October. Nothing pleased Braveheart and me more than to come into the apartment and greet the room with a hearty hand clap, prompting Cowboy to curse us while reminding everyone that Halloween doesn't last forever.

Late one night Braveheart and I bemoaned the fact that we would eventually have to part ways with the decoration and wished that there were versions of the same concept for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New-Years, and Valentines. It was in that moment of silence between us that an epiphany struck us simultaneously. This blessed love affair didn't have to end! Surely we could remove the motor and sound-activation system from the spider, and place it inside other plush toys!

A turkey, a Santa Claus, even a baby-new-year that could later be converted into Cupid! We had the entire year planned out. It was going to be beautiful.

Step One: Find a suitable host for transplant.

Step Two: Perform the surgery.

Step Three: Decorate for Thanksgiving.

Step Four: Wait for hilarity to ensue!

Unfortunately, step one didn't go as well as we had hoped. We went to every conceivable shop in our college town looking for a stuffed turkey doll. There were none. It looked as if our little plan was to die then and there before it ever got off the ground. Our final trip took us to the toy section of Wal-Mart. Lining one wall of the store were hundreds of stuffed animals and not a single turkey in sight. Braveheart was about to give up hope when I grabbed him by the arm and turned his attention to our salvation. At first he refused to think outside of the box. I pressed the issue. He objected on moral grounds. I insisted otherwise. Eventually he succumbed to the idea and we took our surgical candidate home to prepare.

The operation was performed beautifully by my pre-med roommate and I was proud to assist. Later that day we took down our Halloween decorations and put up the festive trappings of fall harvest, including our new addition to the ceiling light in our living space. That night Urban Cowboy was greeted by a sight that will live in infamy!

Say hello to squealing-vibrating-Indian-princess!

You should be paying ME to drink that!

Most college kids have no money. My senior year apartment wasn't any different. Well, it was slightly different. Because while Braveheart, Urban Cowboy, and I were scraping pennies together to take out our respective girlfriends, Monkeywrench was busy fretting over how he was going to score twenty individual gallon sized containers for his latest school biology project.

You see he had this speck of land outside of town that the local wildlife refuge had agreed to let him use as an "unspoiled" environment so he could collect algae samples or some other crap I don't understand. The only problem was that he was running out of time to finish his project and it required the previous mentioned containers. The world wide web was still just gathering momentum and he had searched the damn thing. He had made numerous phone calls and everything he could find was going to run him upwards of $5 to $10 per container.

That's when his professor offered to take him to Sam's Club and purchase twenty glass-jar gallons of apple juice for $2 a piece. Two dollars a piece? What kind of world do we live in where an empty glass jar is worth more than a full one. So in theory, could I get a job as a jar emptier? Apparently it's worth at least $3 per jar... if not more. That is messed up.

Musings from our Nation's Capital

An old college roommate got married last weekend and I made the trek for the wedding. It was great seeing all the old crew and it was also interesting to see another one of my "question-mark" friends turn out to be heterosexual. Two down, one to go. You know which one you are, Eagle Scout! Here are a few thoughts from my trip.

- Northern Speak -

Boy you people north of the Mason-Dixon line sure do talk fast. Eagle Scout, Dental, and I took the train from BWI to downtown D.C. and I'm surprised we made it, having to follow directions from locals was excruciating. You would have thought we spoke a different language.

- Old Ebbitt Grill -


This is the third time in four trips to D.C. (over the course of the last decade) that I have been to this famous bar and grill. All I have to say is Big F-ing Deal! What is it about famous restaurants and bars? It's food and booze, people! Perhaps it's good food and booze but it isn't really awe inspiring and it is definitely over priced.

- Reception Music -

Am I so old now that I consider The Jackson 5, Abba, and The Village People as good ol' fashioned wedding music? This DJ must be very "hip" because I sware, every damn song he played (that I didn't recognize and therefore hated) was from the Top 40. And is it just me or is there always some spaced-out gradma dancing to the dirty little hits of the modern era. You just know she has no idea what is going on.

- Some Dumb-Ass -


Who in the Federal Government decided it was a good idea to close the Smithsonian and 5:30pm? I understand that it's free admittance, so you aren't going to make any more money by keeping your doors open, but seriously... I was there for two days and didn't have time but to race through the Air and Space Museum. And I do mean race. We left the reception so fast, Gyuss and I were still buzzing on free booze, although it did make The Spirit of St. Louis far more appealing!

- Good Meat -


I can safely say that I had the best hamburger in D.C. at this little restaurant/bar that Gyuss loves to frequent. It also happened to be a favorite hang-out for leather-clad police officers, Vegas showgirls, and metro-sexuals. Oh... wait... Is that a sketch of a cowboy wearing ass-less chaps? And that looks like a painting of Mount Rushmore but instead of those distinguished presidents it was a version with Madonna, Cher, Bet, and Barbara. I think I just had my first gay-bar experience and I must admit it was really good meat.

- D.C. Drivers -

They suck.

300's got nothing on the M.O.B.

From the Cyber-Files comes another fantastical tale of wonder, magic, and testosterone fueled antics way back from those old college days. Please insert massive amounts of yelling, cursing, and grunting when directed.

It had been nigh on a year since the men of 3rd Floor North had taken their little game of back-road dirt racing and turned it into a participative event so large that it could have qualified for college funding. Who would have thought that the simple combination of a car, a driver, a navigator, and a Texas road map could catch on like wild-fire? Of course there would always be a few rule breakers, but it was the honor system, and that meant you could go from point A to Z any way you wanted... you just had to keep to the dirt roads and the first one to the abandoned back-woods cemetery wins!

There wasn't a better team in the business than Eagle Scout behind the wheel and myself behind the map. Our first place ribbons were so copious that they could have wall-papered Donald Trump's penthouse. One might think we were an unbeatable team, but like many illustrious teams, a woman got in the way. That's when things got out of control. The future Mrs. Cyber an I were spending more time out and that meant the boys of 3rd Floor lost cyberman as their voice of reason. It ended one terrible night when Eagle Scout drove his suburban into a Sycamore tree and Gyuss landed his Landcruiser so deep in a muddy creek that his back axle was enveloped in the thick, heavy, North Texas clay.

It wasn't until the next day that I heard the news and that there was to be a journey out to retrieve said Landcruiser. It was an illustrious crew of eight men and a not so impressive Jeep. The owner of the Jeep truly believed his vehicle would be victorious against the entrenched behemoth, but it only proved to spin helplessly out of control on the slick grass along the bank. But the mob of men, thigh deep in muck, with shoulders thrust against the Landcruiser's steel bumper was another story.

From spinning tire to freedom, the entire process may have only taken a few minutes. However, as one member of the elbow grease behind the SUV, it felt more like an hour. I remember throwing all of my weight against the giant beast and feeling as if we were nothing more than an ocean wave crashing against an immovable cliff-face (insert sound effects). But over time, even the force of water can change the shape or rock. The second attempt yielded more of the same as mud and water splashed high into the air, covering everyone from head to toe in muck (insert sound effect). After the third attempt all appeared lost! Perhaps poor Gyuss would be forced to break the bank and spend his hard earned pennies on an industrial sized tow-truck. There was perhaps the hint (from one of us) that we give up the game, but a rallying cry was issued and we re-doubled our efforts! Later on Eagle Scout would say that he thought he felt the monster move during that fourth attempt but he feared it was only his mind playing tricks on him... that was until he heard the loudest cry of the F-word he had ever heard utter from my own lips. It was then that he knew we had achieved the impossible (insert sound effect). I remember that moment as if it were just yesterday as the strength of those eight men turned resolute mass into moving force. One could hear the suction of mire let loose from the axle as well as many a foot from their shoes as we pushed (not pulled) that son of a bitch from the creek bottom.

Cries of victory could be heard throughout the land and Gyuss emerged from the cabin with arms out-stretched, celebrating his freedom, and rejoicing in a moment that would live in infamy! If a football had been nearby a game of rugby would have surely broken out!

A Shout Out to my Blog-Brother!

In the spirit of friendship and celebration I would like to formally welcome Pokiman to Blog-Country. I've known Pokiman for nearly fifteen years. He's gone by many names during that time, one of my favorites being Thrud. I've spent the last year encouraging Poki to join his fellow brethren by starting his own blog and I am happy to say you can now check out his magnificent work at Tonight we have a REALLY BIG SHOW. In honor of this momentous occasion I would like to share some of my favorite Poki stories from our past.

The Origin Story:

It was 1992 and Gyuss and I were becoming notorious for how bad-ass were were as college freshmen. The line of friendship hopefuls went around the block two and a half times and we were swamped with resumes. Nothing impressed us and we wondered if there would ever come a day when someone else on campus could measure up to our greatness. It was a stormy Thursday night and all the wannabes had retired to their respective dorm rooms for the night. That is when there came a knock at our door. Poki stood out in the darkness of the hallway with pillow in hand and asked if he could crash in our room because it was raining in his room. G thought it was a scam to gain access to the inner-sanctum. I, on the other hand, felt that this was a desperate soul in trouble. Upon further inspection the roof had caved in and water was indeed pouring down into Poki's dorm room. As benevolent men we welcomed him in


The Pants Come Off:

Poki informs me that he can no longer spend any time in his room while his roommate is present since he accidentally caught his roommate abusing his privates while looking at a Victoria's Secret catalog. Apparently the roommate attempted to pretend to be at his desk typing a paper but his bare-ass but-cheeks shining through the crack in the chair gave him away. Later that week Gyuss and I rented The Deer Hunter and took it to Poki's room since he was the only one on the floor with a TV and VCR. With the lights down low we enjoyed the dark meanderings of Robert De Niro and Christopher Walken. After the movie, a fellow dorm dweller (we'll call him Eagle Scout) turned on the overhead lights and we noticed that Poki's pants were nowhere to be found. Gyuss screamed like a little girl and I asked Poki what the hell was going on. He said that he just feels more comfortable without the constriction of pants while watching movies. Eagle asked if Poki's roommate was "rubbing off" on him. I kindly asked Eagle to never use the words "rubbing" and "off" in this context ever again.


Just Add Water:

Poki and I decided to make a quick road-trip from our small college town into the big city. It was approximately 60 miles one way. Poki asked if I wanted to drive. For whatever reason I said no and we hopped into his little Nissan Sentra. I noticed two large one-gallon jugs of water and a dirty rag in his back seat but I failed to ask why he had them. After our jaunt into the metroplex we were making the trek back up to college when I noticed steam rising from underneath the hood of his vehicle. We were still a good twenty miles from campus and I began to worry. I suggested we pull over but Poki only shrugged and mumbled something about being good for another five miles. Eventually the smoke was more than even he could handle and we took the next available exit. We pulled into the parking lot of a cheap motel and he hopped out of his car while grabbing one of the gallon jugs. I asked him what the hell was going on and he told me not to worry as it happens all the time when one's car has no freon due to a giant hole in the radiator. With dirty rag in hand Poki screws off his water cap and boiling steam spews in all directions. He then dumps the entire jug into his water tank (half of which probably burned off in the pouring) and we continue back to campus. I suggested that next time someone asks if he wants to drive he says no.

Three is Company:

Following our years in school I would often check in with my dear friend and we would catch up on all our shenanigans including talk of women. I'll leave the rest to your imagination and Poki's discretion. Ask him about it sometime.

Caught in Bermuda

In case blog-country hasn't figured it out: Dagromm, Q, and I live in and around the same metro-area and we have all been friends for many years now. Dagromm and I knew each other first but after he moved further away, the Q and I began hanging out with even more frequency. Now we all live about one hour's drive distance from each other and our friendships have become largely phone conversations with the occasional lunch get-together.

But an unsettling trend is occurring in this sacred triangle of love. The last few days I have noticed that when I place my daily call into either one of these dear friends their phones always go to voice mail. I then call the other and that phone is goes to voice mail. When I happen to be talking to one, they always have to jump off the phone to take another call and then when I call the other they aren't available to visit. It turns out that the Q and Dagromm are visiting with greater frequency and they have been each ignoring their caller IDs when my call comes through. Of course no one person in the triumvirate is more important than another but as the most important and influential member of the group, I worry for their eternal souls as their friendship drifts away from the moral compass that is me. To make matters worse I have now come to find out that they are planning a weekend tryst together! Of course they both have clumsily invited me to tag along after I unearthed their secret. Can you believe the audacity? I've had it with this love triangle! I'll not play second fiddle to anyone!

My solution: Gyuss, move to our metro-area and become my best friend! Short of that I have recently priced the cost of a stun-gun, a circle-saw, and a trash bag.

Old Friends - Good Times

So Gyuss came into town this weekend for a visit. Dagromm and I don't have much free time but when an old college buddy comes through town it's kind of like the "get out of jail free" card in monopoly. Whatever is going on in our lives, we are allowed to drop it and hang-out for the duration of Gyuss' visit. Hmmmm, perhaps "get out of jail free" isn't exactly the analogy I was going for, but you get the idea. The Q is always up for a little gaming fun so we could count on him to drive into the metroplex and he did. The big surprise was another old college buddy, hearing that Gyuss was flying in, decided to come up for the weekend as well. For lack of an alias, I'll call him Thrud.

Thrud, Gyuss, Dagromm, and I haven't all been in the same place at the same time in probably seven years, so the weekend approached with much anticipation. With these once-a-decade type gatherings, your eyes can be bigger than your stomach. You want to recreate the old days and do as many of the different activities that you used to do. But more often than not, you can never quite squeeze all the fun out of the weekend and time gets away from you. For some reason, this visit proved to be everything we had hoped it could be... or at least I had hoped it could be. I do think we could fill up ten weekends full of fun if we had it, but I do believe everyone enjoyed themselves and captured a bit of that old magic that has given us such fond memories over the years.



True to form, Q fit right in, as if he was right there with us during our college years. Dagromm made great ribs, and Gyuss brought along a great new game. And the simple fact that Thrud was in the house made the weekend complete. Game playing, trash talking, and junk food eating was the order of the day.



What was truly the biggest surprise to me was that my son (who is turning two years old this September) was a very well behaved boy. My wife works on Saturdays so a large portion of the day was spent with him playing with Dagromm's older kids. I didn't think it was going to go well, since he has historically been very clingy to his parents when he is in a new place. It was not the case. My son was running around the house having a great time, which meant that I was able to hang out and have a great time.

Too bad those gatherings cant' happen more often. I think Blogger has been truly great for us, since it has allowed us to recreate some of that on an ongoing basis. In fact, (if I'm not mistaken) our new blogs may have been the impetus for the visit in the first place. So thank you blogger, thank you very much. Now all we need to do is get Thrud on-line.

Friends

Making friends is more difficult than anyone is willing to admit. I was inspired to say something on friendship after reading a difficult story on my friend's blog.

My son is still too young to be concerned with the harsh reality of school but I think about the future! In a few years it will be important to him. I hope he is both lucky and naturally skilled in the art of friendship. I was not.

I firmly believe it takes both skill and luck to make good friendships. You can have the best of intentions but choosing friends is often random and entirely dependent upon who you first bump into... be it a next door neighbor, the kid sitting next to you in class, or the guy that stands next to you in gym because your last names start with the same letter. Additionally, you can bump into the perfect best-friend potential without even knowing, unless you take the time and energy to cultivate that chance meeting into something more.

I never really did a great job of making friends for the vast majority of my childhood. All through elementary my two best friends were a pair of brothers that lived down the street from me. They were 2 and 3 years older and we didn't cross paths much in school. My school friends were really more like school acquaintances and although I tried to bond with these kids nothing ever really stuck.

When I moved to another town at the tender age 13 I was very sad to be leaving my two best friends. Looking back I am certain that my lack of strong friendships from school made it all the more scary. However, I had high hopes that my luck would change.

I am happy to say that I did make some great friends but it didn't happen overnight. I got lucky with one of those friendships, having made it early in my move. I am forever grateful to that person for looking past the geeky kid in nike ankle-socks to see "me" underneath. But aside from this chance meeting, my two best guy-friends from high-school didn't come along for another two years. During those two years I had a few failures along the way. Three to be exact.

When I turned 15 it just happened. I began to question my ability to make friends but I happened to be in the right place at the right time and I made two great friendships the beginning of my sophomore year. Looking back I am glad that I "stayed the course" and continued to be myself. It took five damn years but my friendship circle was something I was very proud of.

But ever since then I have always been very suspect of meeting new people. I am still very slow to trust others. I also questioned my ability to "read" other people. I wondered if I was a good judge of character. But I took what I had learned and built on that skill. I made friends with a great bunch of guys in college. To this day, I am amazed by the strength and number of these friendships. But again, luck played no small part in how these guys came together.

Outside of office friendships - I was also lucky enough to land what I would describe as my last two "pre-parenting" friends. One through a mutual friend and one from graduate school. I cannot imagine not having them as friends today.

But as a thirty-something father and husband I look to the future with more concern for my son's prospects of friendship than my own. I am hopeful that one can teach their children the skills of friendship but I also believe that nothing beats being in the right place, at the right time.

Ultimately, I believe you must teach your children to be kind, be fun, and be true to what they know is right. There will be hardships along the way, only because children can be cruel to one another. But eventually your son or daughter will find that niche and they can be proud of the fact that they did not compromise their principles in an effort to make a fair-weather-friend.