The Platinum Anniversary

September 9, 2006 marked the 20th anniversary of my friendship with Marisa, my oldest and best friend. We celebrated with Ethiopian food on Friday night.

I vividly remembered our meeting on the first day of firth grade; the class desks were arranged in two horseshoe formations – a smaller one inside a larger one. Mari sat in the corner of the larger one and I was next to her. Her desk was higher than everyone else’s – I thought that made her cool.

Elementary school was one wild ride – in third grade Mari invented the “Gross Club,” which provided us 9-year-olds with a forum in which to discuss the grossest topics most relevant to our daily lives: butts, farts, making babies, boobies, and diarrhea. I never rose above the ranks of treasurer (we had no budget).

When I was little I was achingly shy, timid, and often whiny. I defend that last one now as an early indication of a heightened sensitivity to justice – while I admittedly tattled often in my own self interest, I was always felt a disequilibrium when people were picked on or lied to or treat unfairly. Mari describers herself at that point in our lives as “mean” – an assessment I can endorse, but which comes as a shock to people who know her now – now she is maybe the kindest person I know.

Let me say this, when you are 25 years old, 20 years is a pretty long time and maintaining a friendship of this sort of emotional intimacy is quite a feat especially since geography as kept us separate for the past 8 years. We’ll go a month or two and then pick up again as if – well, you know.

Think about all the people that you have met in your life and all of the ones that you’ve formed a friendship with and then consider the odds that you’d still be confiding secrets to a person you met when you were 5 years old. (I suppose if you live in one place all your live those odds are pretty good – but we didn’t.) I feel so fortunate to still call Mari my closest friend, and to know that no matter how far we run away from the place where we met that we’ll still be as close.

Here are some highlights from our early years by grade:

• First: Genesis of our friendship – Mari sleeps over, gets an ear infection and goes home crying

• Second: Have different teachers – Mari gives me a Splatter kit for my birthday; at her birthday party I try not to stare at the painting of a topless woman in her parents' dining room – I win a jar of gumdrops

• Third: In Ms. Fisher’s class – the best year of elementary school – Sh’queta Johnston stands on table and sings “Devon’s got a big ol’ butt, Oh Yeah!” while Ms. Fisher is down the hall. Brian A. holds a freshly sharpened pencil on Nathan D.’s chair, who sit on it and is rushed to the hospital. Neither boy is able to join the class for a trip to the ice cream parlor financed by our recycling campaign.
  

• Forth: I hang out mostly with a girl named Sarah who convinced me that she was dating a 7th grader named Travis – every time I come over she’s just getting off the phone with him. Turns out she was just chatting with the time-lady. (I also am in love with Bret Michaels at this point.)

• Fifth: Mari and I have both mellowed – she a lot nicer, I whine less – by 6th grade we are best friends again.