I have some wonderful friends. Some I’ve known for decades, some less. This blog is about one in particular. Recently, his support and encouragement made a big difference – yet again.

Sure, we grind each other’s gears on occasion. We argue about comic book reinventions and where the nickname “Gotham” originated.

Thanks to him, I have laughed so hard at things that I laugh when I remember how hard I laughed at them. The infamous Jar Jar Hater knows one of those times in particular, where I laughed so hard at his reaction it stopped conversations in all corners of a crowded reception.

I’ve come to understand that, if you’re going to compare yourself to a super hero, you’d better bring your “A” game. Because he will not let that rest, at least until he buys you 30-year-old cereal in its original shrinkwrap. Then it becomes an in-joke, like myrrh.

I’d never have been part of a podcast. I’d never have tried a Chelada either, but you take the good with the bad.

And he stands by me even as I’ve trolled him mercilessly – for years – with show images that permanently enshrine an unguarded moment when he chose to be silly during a photo shoot for work.

That’ll teach him to have fun when I’m not there.

Finding the Fun

Thanks to him, I’ve enjoyed things I would otherwise have missed. I have learned to challenge myself in ways I wouldn’t have imagined. Without Craig, I’d never have tried a Tough Mudder, much less picked myself up and completed five after dropping out of my first for a popped elbow.

In short, when I stumble, he won’t accept excuses. To borrow a line from Rocky V, he’s the angel on my shoulder shouting, “Get up, you son of a b**ch!”

Frankly, it’s humbling to have someone support you that much. He isn’t related by blood, but stands by me by choice. He won’t accept surrender and never leaves my corner. No matter what I’m facing, I know he’s at my side.

This is why we are pals; it’s a reference to a very specific use of the word from Young Guns and Young Guns II. Even if there were only the two of us, we’d be the tribe, and we’d be one helluva tribe.

The Truth

He’s a friend who would ride to the gates of Hell and never flinch, just to make sure you got back safely. He has stood by me without hesitation.

He makes a big show of supposedly not understanding emotion, but he feels things very deeply and has a true strength of conviction. We might not always agree, but I know he came to where he is with deliberation.

Some people are tests. Some friendships are momentary. Very few have been like him.

He’s fiercely loyal and tremendously generous. He’s one of a kind.

He’s my #pal.

Craigula
…he’s also the primary result in image searches for me.
Advertisements