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Friday, January 24, 2014

The best level of friend

There is an old saying that you find out who your real friends are when you need to move. Because there will always be those people that filter in and out of your life grazing the leftover meatloaf out of your fridge even though you are pretty sure it might have the kind of mold growing on it that should have a crack research team from the CDC storming the house in HAZMAT suits. And those dropping off three movies they "borrowed" four months ago including one that clearly belonged to someone else. And the ones keen on hanging out to bitch about how their newly purchased awesome bit of technological insanity just isn't performing all the mind blowing whiz bang stuff they want while you can only think of how poor you are.

But it takes a special friend to come over and say "yes, I will totally break my back today hauling that damned hutch thing no one ever liked and is way too heavy to be built of any wood not harvested on that planet from Avatar down a flight of stairs and into a truck that clearly has no space for it."

Yes, at the end of the day you reward them with some pizza but the moving test has always been the real acid test as far as I was concerned. If I ever needed to be bailed out of jail  while wearing only a clown suit above the waist and tattoo of regret below the friends that show up to help me move would be the ones that I would call.

However I propose a new level of friend: the helps the paraplegic with his archaic audio/video cable nightmare friend. And I nominate myself as the first in this prestigious club.

The day started as many might. Out in front of my house there was a young woman dressed up in nice black pants, knee high high heeled boots and a stylish blouse wrestling with an extended pole mounted chainsaw. The woman is my neighbor (we'll call her Sue) and she desperately wanted to know how to cut down this damned apple tree in her front yard.