The current object of my reading affection is Stuart MacBride, a Scottish writer who has spun a series of addictive tales about Logan McRae, a fictional police detective in Aberdeen, a northeastern Scottish city on the coast of the North Sea. I’m on the tenth and last book about Logan, not the least bit tired of it yet and wishing there were more.
I think the attraction is the daily imaginary journey I am taking to a different geography, culture, climate, the intriguing mysteries with familiar words but different meaning, delightful Scottish idiom, Logan’s struggle to nail the bad guys while constantly doing battle with the bureaucracy, a few bosses who mistake sarcasm and bullying for leadership, but most of all the deliciously new patterns of swearing so passionately raised to an art form. Of course MacBride’s ruthless humor and biting wit in his writing style is what makes it all work.
Anyway, while scanning MacBride’s website for other books he has written, I noticed his Twitter account. I don’t do Twitter, but his last tweet said, “We shall now return to our regular Twitter silence. Be good to each other.”
Those five simple words – be good to each other – struck me as a good summation of much of the laborious themes of religions and philosophers, never mind the blizzard of rules plaguing our daily life. Can you imagine the change in our American political climate if liberals and conservatives found a way to treat each other kindly? But of course I am having an absurd dream.
MacBride’s simple message also triggered thoughts about friends, and how fortunate we are to have them, if you will pardon the platitude.
I don’t mean acquaintances you are pleased to greet now and then. I mean the kind of friend you can call in the middle of the night to ask for help and be confident they will rush to your door to help with the hard stuff.
When I thought of those friends, I picked from them one example of friendship, Wayne Franz, my next-door neighbor. Wayne is selling his house, but he assures me he is not trying to get away from me. Wayne is a good example that friendship does not always come wrapped in rainbows and fairy dust, it sometimes has rough edges.
I like being around Wayne for a couple of reasons. First, we share a little history. While I flew helicopter gunships in the Vietnam War, Wayne was a combat medic, doing his work behind the medevac helicopter pilot’s seat, getting bloody as he worked furiously to keep the wounded alive on the flight to a hospital. Like so many guys in that war who loved the medevac crews, I do too because the day came when they pulled me out of a bad situation and took me to doctors who put me back together again.
I also love being around Wayne because he is my one friend who can be even more grumpy than me. I was born with no patience, then it got worse.
Especially in the morning before he has had his coffee at Mimi’s, Wayne often wields sarcasm as a merciless weapon, sniffing the day’s events for a scent of stupidity, alert for a victim just begging to be cut off at the knees. Figuratively speaking, of course. Wayne has been known to give me a poke as he approaches the table with something like, “Is Garlock holding court like the Godfather again?”
Wayne Franz missed his calling, at least for his hobby, since as a natural stand-up comic all he is missing is a microphone. He applies slash-and-burn humor like a finely balanced razor sharp Samurai sword. Nobody is safe.
At our Mimi’s breakfast group, we give him plenty of room to swing, at least until he has eaten and becomes human again. Of course I am taking a bit of license here for fun; we all know he is just kidding around, and if you know Wayne you know he is a good guy with a quick laugh.
You might not know why he is a great example of real friendship.
Wayne and I had a mutual friend, who I will call Bob to protect his memory. Many years ago Bob was an acquaintance to me when his wife passed away unexpectedly and he seemed a little lost. So I made an effort to invite him to lunch or to meet for coffee now and then.
Once when I invited Bob to go with me to a movie, he eagerly agreed that I would pick him up, then he called back an hour later to ask me what I was going to wear. I said, “Are you a girl?” Then I told Bob I was wearing clothes and hung up because guys don’t want to be overly helpful, do we?
The years passed and I didn’t see much of Bob after I moved to a new neighborhood, but I noticed him visiting my new neighbor Wayne Franz now and then, which was when I discovered we had a mutual friend. Then some years ago Bob’s health began to deteriorate. Wayne became his confidant, his advisor, and his taxi to and from doctors and hospitals.
While Bob’s health worsened, Wayne became increasingly involved, talking to doctors, helping make treatment decisions, chasing down prescriptions, getting legal documents signed, helping Bob pay his bills, dealing with domestic problems and handling contact with Bob’s remote family.
Don’t get me wrong, Wayne didn’t do all this with pretty smiles while spreading good cheer like rose petals. He wasn’t eager to spend his time this way, but he did what he saw as his duty for a friend.
When Bob was confined to a long-term care facility, Wayne’s time commitment steadily grew. Plagued by his pains and inability to escape, Bob gave Wayne ever more lists of things to do and couldn’t quite be grateful amidst his misery.
Instead, Bob complained that Wayne wasn’t moving fast enough to get things done for him with the speed he desired, even while he was in denial about being at the end of his life. Bob was finally able to move to his own bed at home for a while, where a nurse helped Wayne with the heavy duty of care.
When Bob passed away, Wayne handled the funeral arrangements, had been appointed Bob’s executor and spent a great deal of effort over the next two years getting Bob’s house and possessions tracked down, prepared for market and sold, chased down a thousand routine bills, closed accounts, chased legal matters and dealt with Bob’s remote family who couldn’t be bothered when he needed them but were of course impatient to receive his money.
There are a few lessons worth noting here.
When you appoint an executor in your will, you are not doing the appointee any favor because it is a daunting, exhausting and usually thankless task.
We all have acquaintances who might help with easy tasks, but friends you can lean on to batter down brick walls for you are a rare gift.
Soft and cuddly is not the measure of a real friend.
If you have just one friend like Wayne Franz, say a prayer of thanks.
In the words of a Scottish writer, be good to each other.
[Terry Garlock of Peachtree City occasionally contributes a column to The Citizen. His email is terry@garlock1.com.]
Breakfast at Mimi’s last year: (L-R) Skip Ragan, Terry Garlock, Bill Camper, Scott Bradshaw, Jim Pennington (former city manager), Wayne Franz. Photo/Submitted.
