One Hundred Years of Friendship

Noel Laflin

1-15-24

 

I have four good friends all coming up with birthdays on the same day – in just two days, actually.

 

One was a former coworker, another, a neighbor, the next, a retired teacher, and the last, a once-precocious, but very talented teen who soon turns 60. This doesn't even seem possible for this last fellow when looking back some 45 years ago but, in memory's recall, it only seems like yesterday.

 

My relationship with all four is both diverse and interesting. And if all the years of their friendship were all put together, the sum would exceed a century.

 

And with the exception of one, I still have 'em all beat - as far as years on Earth are concerned.

 

But that's beside the more important fact that we all still stay in touch, applaud accomplishments, lend moral support when needed, and remember good times past - just some of the stuff friendships are made of.

 

So, here's to another hundred years, my friends - or so one can dream.

 

Highway 30 and Neil Diamond

Noel Laflin

1-24-25

 

It's the birthday of Neil Diamond, which reminds me of the time a friend and I were driving down Highway 30, just past Running Springs, when Sweet Caroline came blaring through the car radio. I was 16 at the time - my friend with the car, a few years older.

 

We had been stuffing our faces with fresh warm onion/cheese bread we'd picked up at Heidi's Bakery, washing down each delectable mouthful with ice cold Coke when the song was introduced by the DJ and the now familiar chords began to play.

 

The new hit had only been out for less than three months, but everyone knew the lyrics already.

 

Consequently, Jim and I also screamed them out the rolled down windows, putting both food and drink aside momentarily, our hyped-up antics scaring off any deer or squirrels that might have been in our approaching path.

 

One of us kept cranking up the volume. Or, maybe it was both of us.

 

We continued to sing, laugh, and eat all the way to Highland Avenue and into the intense heat of a San Bernardino summer that awaited us below.

 

We'd be returning to the cooler, fresher mountain air the next day, and would hear the song again, no doubt. And that was fine by us, too.

 

Jim's been gone nearly thirty years now, but whenever that song comes on, fresh warm bread, laughter, singing, along with the elusive memory of youth and friendship is never far away.