So I previously wrote about my commitment to keep in touch with my closest guy friends via phone or face-to-face. One of my closer friends, Michael, is a former Major in the Marine Corps, loves cigars, motorcycles, cars, good Scotch. You get the idea. He's a man's man. He's married with three kids, so he likes to engage in the manly stuff now and then and we get to ride motorcycles, shoot guns and smoke stogies when we meet up. But he's in South Carolina and I'm in Chicago, so other than a visit or two during the year, we talk on the phone. Keep in mind, I don't really like to talk on the phone that much (even though I am quite the wordy one in person). But for some reason, I find myself calling Michael disproportionately often, compared to anyone else. Driving home from work, I'll ring him up to chat about the Ferrari I'm trying to catch up to or the next watch I'm trying to procure for my small collection. We don't necessarily communicate any deep things, but we do chat for 10-15 minutes at a time. My wife thinks I have a man-crush on Michael, but I deny it (at least to her face). Heck, the guy likes the same things as I do (except he truly is not much of a talker). I have begun to actually worry that I'm calling him too much, that he may find me high-maintenance. It's like Jerry Seinfeld and Keith Hernandez, to my everlasting shame.
So, in my quest to maintain my resolution to keep in touch with my friends, I may have gone off the deep end this week. I think I called Michael three times. Geez, what is wrong with me. I'll find excuses to call him, like, "Ooh, I need to ask Michael what he thinks of the last Gear Patrol article I wrote." Maybe another resolution should be to stop annoying my friends.
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