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They are your pals of long ago, with whom you shared some of the best years of your life.
Maybe it was high school, or college or that first job working for that crazy boss you all made fun of behind his back.
In your memory, their faces are forever young, their bodies trim and their hair intact. When you left them, you vowed that you would always keep in touch.
But, well, you know how it is. Life intrudes on those promises. Maybe you get together the first year or two, but then money gets real tight, and you just can’t see your way clear to visit.
You get married, have children, change jobs and cities and kind of lose track of where everybody is.
The phone calls become less frequent, the holiday cards somehow don’t get sent out. So, you look up one day, and it has been more than 30 years since you’ve seen anyone from the old gang.
That’s what happened to me a few weeks ago as I prepared to take a trip back to my college town, still, remarkably enough, infested with a couple of my old friends.
These are guys I partied with, drank copious amounts of beer with, shared my philosophy of life with and still probably have enough on me to get me arrested.
Trust me when I tell you this: It’s impossible to think about meeting with someone you haven’t seen in three decades without taking several furtive looks in a full-length mirror.
You try to pull your stomach in even as you look to see how much hair you have left, and whether any of it isn’t gray.
You tell yourself it’s not a matter of schadenfreude (happiness about someone else’s misfortune), because you’re far more noble than that. Yet, you wouldn’t mind it at all if your friends were:
a) fatter than you;
b) looked older than you;
c) were broke, divorced several times and had maybe spent some time in federal prison for tax fraud.
No such luck on my trip. My wife and I were to meet our friend Paul at a restaurant. Thirtyfive years ago, Paul was a great-looking guy, blond, athletic, terrific personality and very popular with all the girls. He was one of my best buddies, and I couldn’t wait to see how the years had miserably aged him.
So, of course he saunters into the place looking like someone who has a portrait of himself aging in his attic. Still blond, still youthful, still in great shape, still charming and personable. He’s been retired for two years after a distinguished career as a teacher, coach and school administrator. Owns two homes, and is free to travel the country.
Damn him.
A couple of nights later, we met with another successful, happy friend from the days of yore. Seeing those guys was what it must be like to be one of Al Gore’s old classmates.
“So ... Al, what have you been up to all these years?
“Oh, really? Senator from Tennessee? You don’t say. What? Vice president of the United States, too. Hey, that’s great, pal. That must have been fun. Oh, came within an eyelash of being president? Gee, I guess I don’t pay that much attention to politics, being busy with my own job and all.
“What’s that? You actually won the Nobel Peace Prize? An Academy Award, too? C’mon, you’re pulling my leg, you old dog. I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’ve even won a Grammy.
“Oh .... really?
“You know, Al, the wife and I put in a new deck on our house, and we’re saving for a sailboat.
“Oh? You have a mansion in Montecito, Calif.? That’s nice. A multimillion-dollar house in Nashville, a condo in Frisco and a Tudor home in the Washington, D.C. area? A 100-foot houseboat? A farm with a zinc mine? Gee, you seem to have done kinda well for yourself there, Al.”
Rather difficult to match all that, but you never know, no one has it all to the good. Gore and his wife, Tipper, just announced they’re separating after 40 years of marriage.
Gore’s imaginary friend _ if he’s fortunate _ has, like me, a wife and kids he loves. They’re worth a lot more than Nobel prizes and Oscars.
It really was wonderful to see my old chums, to lie to them and hear them lie right back to me. (“Hey, really, you haven’t aged a bit.”) The tendency to keep a life scorecard goes away quickly when the friendship is real and the warmth is genuine. I’m definitely not going to let a lot of time pass before I see those guys again.
Of course, that’s what I said the last time I saw them.
SAM POLLAK is the editor of The Daily Star. He can be reached at spollak@thedailystar.com or at (607) 432- 1000, ext. 208.
Sam Pollak
Strong friendships can survive tests of time and distance
- Sam Pollak
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THIS WEEK'S POLL
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Using time off in the worst way possible
"You don't mean it," I pleaded. "You simply can't mean it!"
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Terror lives on, and there's no end in sight
The horrific scenes out of Boston on Monday will be hard, if not impossible, to forget, unless, of course, it happens again ... and again ... and again.
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Remembering the glory of their times
So, last Sunday, instead of writing The Great American Novel like I ought to be, I'm idly looking in my usual dumb fashion at a television screen.
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Column on guns led to a barrage of (mostly) jeers
You know, I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps there was not universal agreement regarding what I authored in this space three weeks ago.
- Saturday, February 16, 2013
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No one is coming to take your guns
I have some disappointing news for some of the more-virulent foes of sane gun-control legislation.
- Saturday, January 26, 2013
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I'm fit to be tied because I can't find anything that fits
"Did you ever get the feeling," once asked sad-faced comedian George Gobel, "that the world was a tuxedo … and you were a pair of brown shoes?"
- Saturday, January 5, 2013
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Seeing errors of our ways is important
It has become an annual custom to devote my first column of the year to informing our readers about how badly we screwed up over the previous 12 months.
- Saturday, December 15, 2012
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Celebrate 2012 with the annual 'Sammy Awards'
Before you criticize someone -- goes this oft-quoted advice -- you should walk a mile in his shoes. That way, you'll be a mile away from him when you say it … and you'll have his shoes.
- Saturday, November 24, 2012
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Gazan children and Israel suffer for Hamas folly
On Nov. 21, 1977, Egyptian President Anwar Sadat was on his historic and courageous visit to Israel that led to a peace agreement that still exists.
- Saturday, November 3, 2012
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I'm worrying about what's to become of me after Nov. 6
There’s just no getting around it.
- Saturday, October 13, 2012
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No Southern comfort from some in GOP
Most politicians make a gaffe now and again, with Vice President Joe Biden providing more than his share, but what I find fascinating are the increasingly frequent, intellect-defying, science-ignoring statements from politicians with one thing in common.
- Saturday, September 22, 2012
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Critics prefer leaving media in pieces, not peace
Given the current epidemic of citizens great and small smacking the news media about the head and shoulders repeatedly and with great vigor, it can’t help but hurt the feelings of a sensitive and fragile soul … such as yours truly.
- Saturday, September 1, 2012
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What’s in a name? The difference between a hero and a fraud
- Saturday, August 11, 2012
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Rumors of papers' death have been greatly exaggerated
On the bulletin board in my office is this cartoon drawn in 2009 by the talented Lisa Benson of the Washington Post Writers Group.
- Saturday, July 21, 2012
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I wonder how it would feel to have all that money
NetSummary
- Saturday, June 30, 2012
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Why do women stand by such awful men?
Most men _ and you know who you are _ are not to be trusted.
- Saturday, June 9, 2012
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For fatalistic job-seekers, I hear al-Qaida is hiring
NEWS ITEM: Abu Yahya al-Libi, second-in-command of al-Qaida's terror network, was killed last month in Pakistan by a CIA Predator drone attack, U.S. intelligence officials confirmed Tuesday.
- Saturday, May 19, 2012
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I'm happy with our kids to a certain degree
It was several years ago, and I was in the kitchen, telling my eldest daughter and my then-teenaged son about the person who was taking over as publisher at The Daily Star.
- Saturday, April 28, 2012
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I get by with a little help from my 'friends'
They are my precious friends, although I've met only a couple of them. They are always there -- unlike most of my other friends -- whenever I want them ... or need them. I just have to open a book, and there they are.
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THIS WEEK'S POLL



