Good as Gold

In one of my Cheney rants I commented about the difference between a friend and an acquaintance. As usual, the things we say reveal more about us than about the subject we’re supposedly talking about. I think acquaintances abound, but true friends are rare. True friends are those few who, at the very least, genuinely and consistently care for us; they’re the few who are willing to make some degree of sacrifice for our growth and well being. What they feel for us may not be love, although it certainly can and often does, but it rises well above just liking us. I think most of us can write the list of our true friends on the back of a postage stamp. Friends are the leaven in our loaf. Fortunately, we don’t need many to make great bread.

I thought about this yesterday after having lunch with two friends from work. In my job I have some wonderful colleagues, co-workers and acquaintances. I’ve worked in my company in Bakersfield for almost 19 years; almost 15 of those in my current position. But, when it comes to friends, I have two there; maybe three. Actually, if there’s uncertainty, then the lower number is the list to write on the back of the stamp. Given that work involves the largest amount of my time outside my family, and thus the largest opportunity for making friends, that ratio suggests that a true friend might come along about once a decade. If there’s any validity to that, then I should have about a half dozen in my life at this point. That number feels pretty accurate.

One or two others at work might be somewhere in the gaping hole between colleagues and friends. But if they left our company I wouldn’t regard work as a significantly diminished and less rewarding place. I’d miss them; but I’d move on. If my friends at work left; work would be diminished almost immeasurably. (That probably tells me as much about my job as it does about my friends.)

Obviously, we can develop true friends outside of work. I use work as a reference because it involves at least 10 hours of my day. Anything else that involves a substantial amount of our time can bring true friends into our life. But, I maintain the same proportion will hold true – we glean about one friend a decade from whatever field we’re in.

Some will disagree; they will look around and think they see many more true friends in their life. Based on their experience, they may believe that we can make 5 – 10 true friends a decade. Maybe; maybe not. The test comes when you add a little fire to the mix. Bring on the high heat and see which “friends” are metal and which run off like dross. Enough heat will melt any metal; but in the refinery the dross will separate and float above the molten metal where it can be skimmed off, leaving behind a purer metal of greater value.

I am, of course, speaking from my autobiography. When I decided that I no longer believed in the fundamental tenets of Mormonism, I asked to be relieved of the leadership responsibilities I held at the time and within a year I had withdrawn from the church activity that had played a huge part of my life for 20 years. In the course of those two decades, I honestly believed that I had made at least 20 truly close and lasting friends. I was wrong; very wrong. I had made two friends; one per decade. The others scrambled onto makeshift rafts like they were leaving an exploding ship. Some just drifted away; others grabbed anything that would serve as an oar and paddled off as fast as humanly possible. My apostasy made me “unworthy” (a term of art in Mormonism) and I quickly discovered that 90% of my so-called friends were, at best, colleagues, co-workers and acquaintances. A few became the antithesis of friends. Their disgust, derision, false accusations, and good old-fashioned shunning became as painful as my long association with them had been enjoyable. The two LDS friends who stayed at my side when I became a refugee are part of the gold in my life. The fire hurt, and it left scar tissue; but the gold remains and the pyrite has been left behind.

I don’t use the word “friend” lightly. I’m grateful to be married to my best friend; I’m grateful for the two friends at work; and I’m grateful for the few other true friends who have helped make life good; who have brought substance to the loaf; who have either welcomed refugees or been fellow refugees; who have cared and made sacrifice; who have walked side by side in good times and bad. I’m also grateful for the many colleagues, co-workers, and acquaintances that have come and gone. They matter, too. They’re the silver and bronze; the cooper and tin. They’re just not the gold.