Saturday, June 19, 2010

Friend Joel - יום הולדת שמח

June 26 is Joel's birthday. I'm remembering it early this year, remembering it accurately for the first time, and celebrating Joel's friendship. Happy birthday, Joel! Here we are in 2003, at a wine tasting event in Royal Oak. Lily's has a first Tuesday wine club hosted at a different RO venue each month. No, that's not Secretary Clinton with us. She's a friend who said, as I whinged one Tuesday about not having traditions for women entering menopause, "of course we do! It's called Wine Night!"

But this is about Joel. A man who came to a Partylite soire at my house because he thought the conversation would be interesting. Joel is completely myopic about women: he sees women the same as men. Joel is a gifted writer, a practicing intellectual, a mensch, a lousy punster, a stellar character and a fabulous friend. We have known each other a long time: if Joel and I were talking about this, I would guess how long, and he would advise "however long ago you think it was, double it."

I met Joel at Janet's Seder Lite celebration - double how long ago I think that was. We talked all night. I whinged, Joel philosophized, we solved 62% of the world's problems. We talk often about important stuff like books and movies and words, all of which we are passionate about. We used to talk about good wine, but neither of us has the inclination or the loot to indulge that passion any more.

We agree about authors disproportionally to everything in the universe we otherwise disagree about. We share Sir Terry Pratchett, John Crowley, Michael Chabon, Lawrence Block, Jasper Fforde. We are thrilled by good character development whenever it appears. We like particular screenwriters, certain directors, a couple of theaters for popcorn. I can trust him absolutely to tell me if I can't watch a movie because it has knives in it. If Joel says don't watch it, I won't.

We have other opposite tastes. He is attentive to movie reviewers, I won't read them. I write, review, let the writing sit, read it again, send it. Joel finds bliss in rewrites. He enjoys foreign martial arts films; has particular favorite directors and an extensive collection. I think it's a bunch of silly swirling robes. Perhaps that's the ticket: we disagree and we're okay with that.

I once called him a snob, and we got into a long hour of semantics about it. We're both snobs, and I like the company. Joel is loyal to his steel cut oats, and a particular store's olives. He will travel absurd distances to satisfy his tastebuds. I boycott certain stores for bizarre snobbish reasons I never tell anyone about. Except Joel.

So, there you have it. I enjoy Joel's tastes, twists, nuances and humanitude. We may disagree at length and volume, but I respect, admire and trust him, and he knows it. We have code words, traditions, summer squall spats that clear in a moment, we are good friends in a universe of casual acquaintances. And we are fortune's favorites in that way.

Happy birthday, dear Joel! L'chaim!

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