Old friendships are like . . .

Drop 50 lbs?  It's too late now. 

". . . meats served up repeatedly, cold, comfortless, and distasteful.  The stomach turns against them."  That's William Hazlitt's view, expressed in "The Pleasure of Hating" (1826).

Other views:  Old friendships are like . .
"the video collection you keep in the garage:  you are nostalgic for them but would still rather watch your new DVDs (Lisa);  "a worn-out, holey sock that used to be comfortable, but now your toe sticks through the end. . . . you keep it in the drawer, though, just in case you run out of your other pairs (Rodney); "spam; and your memory doesn't have a pop-up blocker (Katie)."  And what flashes through your mind when you run into an old friend?  "It's too late to drop 50 lbs. when you're standing in the ring (the boxing ring, that is)."  (Chad)

For another view (?), see the video below.  The song, "Old Friends," was written by Paul Simon (the gentleman on the right in the video) when he was 27 years old (I'm not sure when the video was recorded).  In October of 2011, Mr. Simon will be 70.



Old friends, old friends
Sat on their parkbench like bookends.
A newspaper blown through the grass
falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men,
lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends.

Can you imagine us years from today,
sharing a parkbench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy.

Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
silently sharing the same fears.

Time it was and what a time it was,
a time of innocence,
a time of confidences.
Long ago, it must be;
I have a photograph.
Preserve your memories:
they're all that's left you.