My buddy Raft3r

My pal Raft3rLast night, I had dinner with Raft3r, one of my best – and oldest – friends. He and I have known each other for 24 years, having met each other in Grade 2. Cathy was with us, although she left us alone for dinner – “boys need their boy time,” she said – and caught up with us for dessert at I Heart Berries. (Idiot that I am, by the way, I didn’t bring a camera. Or maybe that was on purpose? Whenever Raft3r and I are together, I try to stay out of photos because he’s so much better looking. I’m “the funny one.”)

Raft3r and I go waaaay back (when you know someone pre-puberty, you know someone). We’re opposites in many ways: he’s tall, I’m not so tall. He’s lanky and lean; I’m still the future thin guy. He got looks; I have a great personality. I’m married; he’s not sure if he wants to be. My blog entries are fluid and verbose; his are short and straight to the point. Despite our many differences, we click, you know? Few people know me, and I trust fewer people still. Me, I will gladly entrust my life to this man. If Cathy and I died tomorrow, I may very well leave him my kids.

Thanks to modern technology, it’s easy to keep track of one’s friends. Strangely enough, this dinner was our first meetup for 2009. Even if we hadn’t seen each other for months, it felt comfortable and familiar. We joked a lot, and talked about my wife and his wife (FYI, he’s married to Janet Jackson.) He mocked me; I mocked him. (The only difference now is that I’m a dad; that makes you a fathermocker, Raft3r.)

It was great seeing you, Raft3r. I’ll see you again next month. Anyone wanna join us? Preferably female, 21-26y/o, with an open mind and a love for R&B music by Janet?