Old Friends Are Good For The Soul

Celebrating decades of friendship at Avalon nature trail in Stony Brook, NY.

Forty years ago, in September of 1981, my friends and I hopped on the Long Island railroad and went to see Simon & Garfunkel perform in Central Park.

It was a legendary evening immortalized in a hit live album and film. For us, it was an adventure; an experience… another chapter in a deep bank of memories.

Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel were already sort of an oldies act when they took the stage and sang their timeless classics.

“Old friends, old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends”

The song is about childhood friends who sit together on a park bench a lifetime of memories between them.

In the song, the characters are 70 and they find that fact to be strange.

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Where did life go, they wonder. And so do we all.

Back in ‘81, we were 16 and 17, we had just gotten our driver’s licenses and our first cars.

A green ‘67 Mustang for Ben, a ‘69 Karmann Ghia for Dewey and oddly, a 76 AMC Pacer for Scott who insisted that the car was really a squat version of a Porsche. Nice try…Scott.

Life for us, was just beginning. We were loving high school, chasing young women with mixed success, going to parties on weekends and watching something called a music video on a new station called MTV.

College, marriage, careers, children, homes, travel and all the other stuff was all ahead for us.

It was a special time. Our parents and grandparents and beloved aunts and uncles were alive and very much in our lives. The mysteries of life were still there to be experienced for the first time.

They were truly the “wonder years” and we were experiencing them together. We spent our time talking about the future into the wee hours of the morning on deserted beach roads on the east end of Long Island.

Last weekend, several of us left our lives behind to meet back home in Stony Brook for a quick mini-reunion. We visited old haunts, fell into old taunts and drank wine and bourbon way past our normal bedtimes.

We are 57 now. Still young and spry enough to kick up a little trouble but old enough to see that 70 year old man on the park bench and realize we are fast approaching that part of our lives if we are fortunate enough to get there.  We know there are no guarantees.

A few of us have had scares and were left scarred by what life throws at all of us. A serious bout of melanoma, Covid, divorce, financial crises, business ups and downs and the loss of people we knew to cancer, heart attacks, strokes and crashes both plane and car.

Nobody gets out unscathed. It seems to be the law.

But it’s the “in betweens” that matter too. The joys which are so abundant.

We have all found love, we all have kids we are proud of, we have all done well in our careers. We have also experienced the joys of friendship. The flat out miracle of enduring bonds that formed when we were 5,6 and 8 years old that have lasted a half century.

From Nixon to Biden, from rotary dial phones to smart phones and from MTV to Netflix. The one constant for me and for the others has been each other.

We have been there for one another  at every step of the journey and at this stage it’s a reasonable assumption that will always be true.

Together and collectively, we’ve travelled a million miles and gone a million places. I am so proud of these guys. They are good men in a world where that is not a given.

During the height of the pandemic, my oldest friend Dave, organized a regular Zoom call for all of us to gather and share wine, spirits and conversation. The zoom happy hours helped us all get through the isolation of lockdowns.

Those calls were a lifeline and a joy. Old stories that make us laugh, gaps in our memories filled, new stories and plenty of debates about the day’s news. I loved every call and they are ongoing.

When I got a bad case of Covid, I couldn’t participate for two months or so. But as I lay on my back too weak to sit up and too sick to walk across the room, I could count on a steady stream of texts from my brothers. Funny messages. Encouraging words. Hopeful questions. I felt the care and concern. And I thought “my goodness, I may never see these guys again.”

If Covid takes me out, I won’t be on that park bench when I’m 70 telling the story of that time in the parking lot of Mario’s… But, miraculously I made it home and back to the calls and my friends.

We resolved that when vaccines were out and it was safer to meet that we would get together.

We used to get together every few years as a group but life got in the way. We got busy. We all get busy.

But this time we met—back home where we came of age— together.

The details of the weekend are private but suffice it to say that we did a lot more worrisome things when we were teenage boy’s roaming those winding roads of the Three Villages in unsafe muscle cars with questionable brakes.

I do want to say that if you are lucky enough to have an old friend or two or 10, make sure to see them while you can. Zoom is great. So are texts. But live and in person beats Facebook, FaceTime and WhatsApp.

The park bench looms large these days. I can see it in a dozen years of so.

I hope to make it.  I trust these guys will meet me there.

Comments

  1. David Reeves says

    Outstanding, Jeff! Resonates with those of us who have these life-long friends.

  2. Peter Arts says

    Roger and Pete agree with their colleagues Simon and Garfunkel.

    One uses the bookend analogy and the other uses a cup of tea to look back at their lives and smile.

    https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x69xyfm

    Carpe Diem to all…

    …while we can and find me a park bench to sit upon.

  3. Great article and reminds me of my Sharon’s favorite song – ‘You can’t make Old Friends’

    https://g.co/kgs/GShhm1

    When somebody knocks at the door
    Someone new walks in
    I will smile and shake their hands
    But you can’t make old friends

  4. I’m very lucky to have a group of friends like this! The only difference is that we are at that age of “70!” This really hit home for me as I can seriously identify with the feelings being expressed. Life is good, but it is great when you have friends like this. Thanks!

  5. Ben Willemstyn says

    My ’67 ‘Stang was way faster than your Camaro.

    • Jeff Perlman says

      Ben, I hate to say this. But your car didn’t burn up at the mechanic’s shop. It was torched by my ’68 and left in cinders. I figure you are old enough to hear this now.

      • Just to set the record straight.
        As for the Pacer https://www.goodwood.com/grr/road/news/2019/1/axons-automotive-anorak-the-bizarre-influence-of-the-porsche-928/, and in the article “ Of course, it could be argued that the curvy, glassy design of the Porsche 928 could have been influenced itself by the equally distinctive AMC Pacer that found fame in Wayne’s World, and preceded the Porsche by almost three years.
        With its three-door bodyshell and plentiful curved glass, the 928 resembled an AMC Pacer that had been sat on by a large elephant; lower and wider than the iconic American classic. Conversely, one could argue that the Pacer looked like an over-inflated 928!”

        Ahh First cars…. It didn’t make a difference what we drove as long as we could drive.

        • Jeff Perlman says

          That’s a nice attempt. You get points for trying but let’s just say we remain incredulous 40 years later.

        • Ben Willemstyn says

          Waitaminute….I’m just leaning now it WASN’T a Porsche 928?!?! Man – life is full of surprises.

          • Jeff Perlman says

            I now understand why your Mustang blew up. It’s taken me 40 years. But the real reason is karma.

  6. Gerry David says

    There’s a group of guys that we all call each other brothers. But In actuality it’s more than being a brother. We’ve been to the Indianapolis 500 together for 40 years, we’ve been to Las Vegas for 30 years together and we’ve made it to Delray Beach for six years together. We communicate with each other almost daily and get together for cigars or breakfast or any other good excuse on a regular basis. We hug when we see each other and our love for each other comes out loud and clear. We are all 70-ish now and the memories Are etched in our minds. Your story really hit home with me and my other brothers. Thank you for the beautiful memory Jeff.

  7. There’s a group of guys that we all call each other brothers. But In actuality it’s more than being a brother. We’ve been to the Indianapolis 500 together for 40 years, we’ve been to Las Vegas for 30 years together and we’ve made it to Delray Beach for six years together. We communicate with each other almost daily and get together for cigars or breakfast or any other good excuse on a regular basis. We hug when we see each other and our love for each other comes out loud and clear. We are all 70-ish now and the memories are etched in our minds. Your story really hit home with me and my brothers. Thank you for the beautiful memory Jeff.

  8. What a beautiful story. So glad you all made the time and trip. We never know what tomorrow holds. Having recently lost a high school friend at 60, we truly never know. Luckily we did what you and your friends did, but a few years ago. It is important, beautiful and always fun!

    Let’s hope we all make it to that park bench.

  9. It was my privilege and pleasure to know and actually hang (at least for a bit) with some of you in Nassakeag, Gelinas and Melville. Glad to see you’re keeping the fires of friendship alive. And Avalon is a beautiful backdrop for a reunion. (We know live in Saint James, a stones throw from where it all began, and walk there most weekends.) Keep on trucking!

    • Jeff Perlman says

      Hi Paul, so good to hear from you. You are so fortunate to live near Avalon. What a special place. Dewey Harlow, who was on the trip with us, also lives in St. James. He took us to Avalon and Harmony Vineyards. A special place is just getting better and better.

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