With Friends Like These

My boys threw my bachelor party in Chicago last weekend, and in a short phrase, it was perfect.  It was full of booze and sports, and a 1700 sq ft suite looking out to Lake Michigan.  I want to live there.  Derek Rose apparently does, which was confirmed by two of my friends seeing him in the elevator on the way to the gym.  He didn’t have a knee brace on…#faking?  But more than whiskey, wine, shots, baseball, golf, and the olympics, it was a stark reminder of the strength of brotherhood that meant the most to me.  Upon reflection on Monday back home, which I took off from work to de-tox, I watched the Big Chill.  The first time I watched the Big Chill I was probably 8 years old, and I only remember something sexually awkward happening, but not much else.  Maybe some drug use.  Watching it this time was different.  The Big Chill is about old friends, optimistic and hopeful youth, and nostalgia.  The characters are only brought together because one of the crew commits suicide and all are brought back together under the same roof.  I related to it in some ways, and not others.

Harkening back to the good old days is usually an exercise in focusing in on the good times and blocking out the bad.  It’s easier that way.  But my bachelor party weekend reminded me of something else; something that I am proud of.  It’s more than being proud of the accomplishments of my group of friends, which I would hold up against any set of 10 guys in the world.  I mean that.  But I’m proud of the relationships that I’ve maintained, and proud to be associated with a group like this.  In the Big Chill, the characters bemoan losing touch with Alex (the guy who killed himself).  I completely understand how it happens.  Life gets in the way, whether it’s work or kids or something entirely different.  But for me, losing touch is an excuse, and a weak path to walk.  I think you have to work for (and sometimes fight for) the positive influences in your life.  There is plenty of negative out there in the world grasping at you to pull you down.  And it is your responsibility to recognize the good and shed the bad; no one else’s.  I have made it a choice (and a priority) to stay close with this group of guys beacuse of their positive influence on my life.  And something that I couldn’t quite articulate to my fiance when I came home happens every time I’m around this group of guys (or a subet of them).  So I’ll try to explain here, using the Big Chill as an aid.

Near the end of the Big Chill, the group is sitting around talking about how “they were better” when the group was intact.  Kevin Kline rejects that narrative, obviously feeling like he’s an accopmplished and happy adult.  I agree with both actually.  When I’m around my best friends, I do feel like a better version of myself.  I feel funnier.  I feel more interesting.  I feel more challenged.  I feel more energetic.  This has to be why seeing your friends is such a thrill — you actually feel better.  But this is where Kevin Kline kicks in for me too.  I’m ecstatic about the current version of myself too, that only includes a handful of those guys being a part of my everyday life (I see some of them once every couple of weeks, and others only a few times a year).  But part of that current version of myself includes the effort and priority I have placed on these specific friendships.  I know this sounds a bit self-serving.  No doubt I could have stayed in better touch over the years.  I could have been a better friend in many instances.  I’m committed to be better.  But my bachelor party weekend reminded me not of the virtues of being single — I can’t wait to be married to my wife-to-be — but it reminded me of why I call, text, write, and visit this group of guys on a regular basis.  And it reminded me why I always wish it was more.  For me, that is the perfect bachelor party.