Old Friends in Cold Places

Lately there hasn't been too much to smile about.

Oh sure, we've had an historic, much-celebrated Presidential election.  We've had a plane crash that was more landing than crash, in which no one was killed, and which gave meaning to that spiel about water landings you usually ignore. Those were good.

But we've also had to watch our government in action, which is never pretty, whoever's in charge.  Botched presidential appointments, partisan (as ever) bickering, and stimulus packages that are either too bloated or not bloated enough, depending on the color of your state.

We've also been riding an emotional roller-coaster in lock step with the stock market, and the crazy gyrations have left many of us in a semi-permanent state of quease.

Add to all of that the sad truth that too many of us are unemployed, or underemployed, or self-employed (which these days is the same as the first two, it just sounds better).

All of that is bad.

Imagine, then, hearing from an old friend calling from a cold place, far away:

Rrrnnnggg ....

'Hello'

'Hey Buddy, it's [friend].  I'm sitting here in a Bavarian-style eatery sipping an ice-cold Bitburger.  It's 36 degrees (F) and I'm outdoors.'

'Are you nuts?'

'No, but I'm having some with the beer.  Hey, I just got an urge to call and see how you were.  Something about the beer and nuts made me flash on you, and I thought I'd call.'

'Great, so how are you?  Hanging in there in the frozen north?'

'Yeah.  It's a change and the transition hasn't been perfect, but I just keep on truckin'.  What else is there to do?  Wish I was back in sunny California sometimes, though.'

'Yeah, but it's raining here right now.  Outside, no rain, with a nice cold Bavarian beer and maybe a bratwurst or three... sounds like heaven.'

'Well, I'll drink this beer in your honor...'

A few minutes more of conversation featuring personal and work updates, horror stories about dumb-ass stock moves (both of us, but more me), and sundry other remembrances, ensued before my friend had to sign off.

Simple stuff, but the moment had worked it's magic.  Not much later I received an email telling me I'd missed the cut for a job I really wanted, but the blow was lighter and caused less damage thanks to that call.

How did he know?  Telepathy?  Empathy?  Telempathy?

Perhaps it was only coincidence that he called when hearing an old buddy's voice was something that would help me.  My friend might have just himself been seeking a familiar voice, a voice associated, however peripherally, with his own better memories. A voice to weaken the pack ice that had him feeling stuck in his cold place.

If that's so, I hope it worked.  

His call, perfectly timed, worked for me.