needle into the groove

2006-04-11 - 11:59 p.m.

He was the first friend I made in Pennsylvania.

I'd lived here for six months and just hadn't connected to anybody. I'd made one new friend actually, but he was from Boston so that didn't count.

So this one night I'm sitting alone at this coffeehouse music joint, at a table right at the edge of the stage, with a bottle of wine I'd brought along. Next to me was a good-looking guy also sitting alone. Had I been a little more smooth and a little more bold, I would have tried to pick him up, but being me, I ended up offering to share the wine and making a friend for life. Pretty darned good deal for half a bottle of red.

We can go for long stretches of time without seeing each other and immediately get right back into rhythm like dropping the needle into the groove of a record you've played a hundred times. I like that.

We've had late-night bar sessions, countless hours of musical wonder, gotten lost in the canyons near L.A., reveled in synchronicity, covered a hotel carpet in shaving cream splatters and had the common understanding that comes from being two square pegs that don't always fit in society's round holes.

He's got this contagious, self-deprecating sense of humor and can bring together a group of people into a conversation that makes you feel like you're on a ride with a comedian. He came with me to a work party four years ago and everybody still asks after him. He makes that much of a first impression. I find that fascinating. My friends -- as I've said before and I still believe -- are amazing people.

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