Tricks to Keeping Friends for a Half Century by Rolynn Anderson

As some of you are aware, I’m on a journey to reconnect with friends/relatives from the Pacific Northwest.  Not a task for those with iffy organizational skills.  I have thirteen groups of friends and family with whom to connect in less than three weeks. 

I’m watching myself taking on this task with a measure of pride, because my mother never taught me the skill.  On our many trips cross-country (we followed Dad, an Army officer, everywhere), my mother’s modus operandi, was to call the friend or relative as we approached his/her residence…about 50 miles away from his/her home.  If the person answered the phone, my mother suggested a drive-by (an hour stop at the most).  If the friend or relative weren’t home, Mom would shrug her shoulders and say: “I tried.” Later she’d jot a letter to the person we’d failed to see, saying she’d been in the neighborhood, as if that excused her lame try at a contact.

Nope. Not me.  I started working out our itinerary months ago, checking to see who was in town and when the best meet-up times would be.  We even set up a hotel-stay in a location that made it easy for us to go visit friends.  A step further: we were invited to stay overnight with two different couples…something we do rarely. 

Such an itinerary isn’t easy, especially when planning rendezvous points.  Which restaurant is lovely, not too expensive, and central to each particular group of friends? What do the reviews say about food and service?  Is there parking? Do they serve wine? Is the food generic so all would find something on the menu to like? Is the restaurant quiet enough to allow comfortable conversation? (I picked this restaurant because it had a gorgeous side-room...and if we met here at 4:30, we'd have it to ourselves...wouldn't need to pay rent!)

And I forget to mention: If friends come on a ferry, what’s the best time for us to hold the lunch/dinner, and who picks up the ferry passengers and drops them off? (We’re in ‘ferry country,’ and in high summer season, with big crowds and days of fog that delay the ferries, we’re talking complications! Forget about driving on a ferry…foot passengers have the only chance to make it to the other side on time.)

So far we are doing well.  Six groups visited…seven to go.  Ferry rendezvous tomorrow.  I’ll let you know if the last half of the month (including a one-week family reunion) goes as smoothly as the first half.

How about you?  What’s the most intricate trip you’ve ever planned in an effort to connect with friends and family?

Speaking of intricacy.  Here’s my story about tourist itineraries that go wrong, very wrong…in Aix-en-Provence France: CÉZANNE’S GHOST http://a.co/bQdl7jp

http://rolynnanderson.com

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Your Five-Minute Best Friend by Betsy Ashton

We all know what BFFs are. They're those dear friends who are with us no matter what. We may have known them since elementary school, or they may have entered our lives more recently. We all have at least one. What I'm talking about here is a best friend who shows up exactly when you need her and then disappears.

These best friends find you in a time of need. Maybe you've slipped and fallen. This BF helps you up, sits with you for a few minutes to be sure you are all right, offers to call your family. Maybe even gives you a hug before going on her way. I bet if something like this happened to you, you haven't forgotten that five-minute kindness.

Back when I was commuting, I had a five-minute BF every morning. I rode the Hudson line of Metro-North into New York City daily for eleven years. For that decade and a year, Ralph was my conductor on the morning run. Tall, maybe 50+, with a smile that lit up the darkest and coldest winter mornings. He moved with a practiced rocking gait as the train pitched and yawed down tracks that should have been replaced years earlier. He had his own patter when we flashed out monthly passes.

"Thank you."
"Thank you, miss."
"Thank you, ma'am."

A bare "thank you" was reserved for all the men whose noses were buried in papers. "Thank you, miss" was for younger women, whose noses may or may not have been buried in papers. "Thank you, ma'am" was reserved for women of a certain age, one Ralph never explained.

I waited eagerly every morning for my smile and greeting. I looked forward to it. The regular commuters made sure to tell Ralph if they were going to be away for more than a few days. He had a tendency to worry and ask if you knew the woman you always sat with was all right. And when he had a vacation planned, he let us know.

We came to know about his children and grandchildren. We know what kind of car he drove. And yet not one of us thought to ask him about the difference between "miss" and "ma'am."

I was in my tenth year of the commute when things changed. Now, understand, please. My looks hadn't changed all that much since my first day on Metro-North. I'd had silvery gray hair when I arrived. I weighed plus-or-minus five pounds over the ten years.

One morning, the fateful day arrived. Ralph smiled at me and said, "Thank you, ma'am." My seatmate gasped. I gasped. People around me gasped. Ralph didn't. He rolled his way up the car, oblivious to the turmoil he'd caused.

That winter day was the day Ralph ceased to be my BF. Forever.

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Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max, Unintended Consequences, and Uncharted Territory, A Mad Max Mystery, now available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

A Writerly Activity to Avoid by Betsy Ashton

@GoofyWriter Working at Artist out of Hiding #AOOH weekend. Come on by.

@bff Where are you? Looked all over the place for you. Please respond @GoofyWriter

@GoofyWriter In the front window. All set up with laptop and great writing ideas

@bff Found you. You aren't doing anything.

@GoofyWriter I'm writing. What else does a writer do?

@bff You don't look normal

@GoofyWriter I'm not normal. I'm a writer. I'm supposed to look different

@bff Going home for some props to help

@GoofyWriter Props?

@bff Here, put these on

@GoofyWriter Pajamas??? Who you kidding???

@bff And these

@GoofyWriter Bunny slippers?????

@bff Well, that's what you wear at home.

@GoofyWriter Now I have writer's block. I feel like an idiot and I can't think of a thing to write

@bff Do what you do at home

@GoofyWriter Walk around and babble dialogue

@bff Sure. It works when no one's watching

@GoofyWriter Stood, walked, waved arms in the air, mumbled, ranted

@bff And?

@GoofyWriter Writer's block dented. Sat down and wrote for half an hour

@bff Wash, rinse, repeat

@GoofyWriter Jumping around like a madman and screaming dialogue

@GoofyWriter In the back of a cop car in handcuffs

@GoofyWriter Hey, @bff, can you bail me out?

@GoofyWriter @bff

@GoofyWriter @bff

@bff No longer your bff. You're crazy. Bail yourself out

@GoofyWriter Not LOLing

@bff I am

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Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences published by Koehler Books in March 2013.