Recently, I penned a piece titled Clusterfuck Wellington, describing how your possessions can grow in size and quantity, eventually taking over your life. In it, I expressed my intention to radically downsize and regain— or better, create— a simpler life.
One of the people who read this was a guy named Gus, whom I have been close friends with since around 1977 when he was assigned by the Grand Union supermarket chain to clean up the mess in the Florida Advertising Department.
Being an astute leader, he quickly realized that a significant part of that mess was an obnoxious troublemaker named JC Bourque, whom he fired, sort of.
By sort of, I should explain that we both agreed that my leaving would be a good idea.
In retaliation, I became roommates with him and we have been friends for forty-seven years. You could say the guy knows me.
Which is why he realized that I was in more trouble than I thought.
So, he offered to leave his cozy oceanfront home and come to Denver and help. After a three-hour drive to a major airport, he flew in to confront the unknown.
His help was instrumental in accomplishing my goal. Not only was there serious heavy labor involved, but pretty complicated logistics during some of the coldest weather of the winter. We soldiered on.
Gus took it all in stride and even kept me motivated when my energy was flagging. He’s one of those “just one more load” types.
When we weren’t working, we had time to catch up and marvel at all the changes we had seen in our lives and the world around us. Also, he can remember things, so I enjoyed many fine and funny memories that would have been otherwise lost. Note: in all likelihood, I will lose them afresh.
A good friend will also have the courage to tell you when you are screwing up, as he has done many times, much to my improvement.
After all this time, often years without close contact, and through many good and bad events in our separate lives, we find we still get along easily and naturally, despite us both having changed quite a lot.
That’s real friendship. Thank you, Gus.
Very nice.