Before she moved back to Liberia she attempted to teach me how to cook my favorite of her native dishes. I was never able to translate her instructions for a preferred Liberian cabbage dish successfully, but I was grateful for her efforts. When introduced to key lime pie she fell in love, and perfected a recipe for it almost immediately. Her sweet potato dishes were to die for, and those thank goodness I can prepare.

She was all colorful tops and worn out jeans at home, black suits, always, at work. We both had an affinity for black boots. She spoke French with me because she could and I wanted her to, though English is her native language. She helped me see me through the eyes of others. I should not fail to mention that she is a scholar, a human rights activist, and a poet.

A rare and wonderful creature, she sees life as she sees split infinitives, and like Bryson she will tell you that a split infinitive is not a grammatical error, but a rhetorical one, if an error at all, believing it to be more a question of style or choice than syntactic transgression. As such their are no mistakes in life, just consequence of choice.

She returned to Liberia, and then on to Munich, some time ago. I’ve missed her, as I’ve missed Strahan and Hobart Harbors. Some friends are like the ships that pass through favored harbors, others are the favored harbors, and we are meant to return to them or they to us, eventually, or sooner, and repetitively. Instinctively, just as I know which harbors I will return to, I know my harbor people. Do you know yours?

The first in an erratic series of brief essays about my harbor people. This, instigated by a note letting me know that the aforementioned friend will be celebrating U.S. Thanksgiving with me, and the realization that there was such a thing as a “harbor person”, and that I am fortunate to have several .

peace

Having cut off her nose to spite her face, my friend is currently stuck in Phoenix with a great job, but no real friends or lovers, and no one of like mind (or even right mind), to surround her when she needs companionship. In her words, “I am going crazy here” and “this life sucks”.

With the full understanding that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t, and not really caring which one of those categories you fit into, I want to honor her situation with a song that’s been called an epic of existential despair (prehistoric EMO). A song written by (plausibly), and despite the Liberace-esque attire, one of the greatest songwriters of all time, or at least the most enduring. I give you the oft parodied I Am I Said.

T my friend, this too will pass, as All things must, (George Harrison).

peace

Sometimes not, but you got to give credit to creativity and truth.
It’s the weekend.
Enjoy your Friends.
[See post to listen to audio]

Friends sing together
Friends do things together
Friends laugh together
Friends make graphs together

Friends help you when you’re in danger
Friends are people who are not strangers
Friends help you shift into a new place
Tell you if you’ve got food on you’re face

Friends are the ones, on who you can depend
He’s my friend, He’s not my friend
Friends are the ones who are there at the end
He’s my friend, They’re not my friends

If you trip over I’ll catch you’re fall
If you kick my dick, I won’t break you’re balls
If you get drunk and vomit on me
I’ll make sure you get home safely

If you cross the road and a drunk struck you
And scrape you up and reconstruct you
I’ll cheer you up if you’re depressed
If you get murdered I’ll avenge you’re death

Friends walk together

Pop and lock together

Me and him together

Me and Jim forever

Friends go jogging at the track
Friends borrow money never pay It back
Friends do not let friends do crack
Friends go out and grab a snack
Friends drink beer in the sun
Unlike girlfriends they don’t mind if you have more than one
Friends tell you when you’re flys undone

My Uncle John had a special friend
They dressed a like, his name was Ben
I’ve never seen two friends like them
They we’re very very friendly men

Friends, Friends, Friends

Friends, Friends, Friends, Friends

Friends, Friends, Friends, Friends

Friends

Friends, via Flight of the Conchords

Video at Compulsions