While Son 2 and I were driving around looking at colleges, we stopped in to visit a fellow I met in college. I'll call him Schmidt. Schmidt is my age, or a year older; he is single and lives with his mother (who is about 80) on a farm far away from here. I mentioned him briefly in this post seven years ago.
Schmidt can be an engaging fellow when you get to know him, but he shies away from most social interaction. Or at any rate he won't make any effort for it. He doesn't return letters, for example. Time was that Wife spent a lot of time writing him, calling him, and visiting him. But the effort was nearly all on her side. We even drove the whole family out to visit him and his parents on his farm back in 2003, when his dad was still alive. But then something happened -- I no longer remember what -- and she suddenly stopped. I think it had something to do with Schmidt telling Wife that he didn't need her -- or anybody -- in his life. Anyway, she stopped calling him, and he was never very good about calling us. We dropped out of touch. When Wife and I separated I wrote him a few times, trying to see if we could resume our friendship now that Wife was out of the way. I got nothing back. After several tries, I began to think "You know, Hosea, sometimes friendships just die off. Maybe he is trying to tell you to stop bugging him, as politely as he can. Let it go." And for the most part I did. But then Son 2 would tell me something about working on the ranch at Durmstrang (his high school) and I would think it was too bad I wasn't in touch with Schmidt. Schmidt would appreciate the story.
Anyway, we were out looking at colleges, and our route was going to take us within a couple hours of the Schmidt family farm. They have a family business with a website, so I e-mailed to info@[familybusinessname].com to mention we were "nearby" and maybe we could stop in to say hello. I added that if I didn't hear back, I would assume either that it wasn't convenient for us to visit or that he didn't pick up his mail. This last was meant as a built-in excuse, so that if any of my fears about dying friendship proved true, all Schmidt had to do would be to delete my mail.
In fact he e-mailed me back, right away, to say that of course we were welcome but did we realize just how far out of our way we would have to go to get there? Maybe it would be better for us to stay overnight, if that fit our schedule. No reticence at all. So I figured sure, what the hell? And we drove out to the Schmidt farm.
Ma Schmidt was effusively welcoming. Schmidt himself was a little more reserved, at least for the first couple of hours, but then he began to relax. In the end we stayed two nights, spending the day in between visiting some of the scenic natural wonders in his part of the state. Son 2 commented that he was surprised Schmidt talked so freely -- he was expecting him to be dour and taciturn the whole time we were there. Son 2 also added, "My God, Dad, he's just like you. I mean, he lives on a farm and he doesn't talk as much -- but he thinks like you and he has the same sense of humor. I didn't think it was possible." I smiled. Schmidt and I had figured that out back when we were in college ... both that I talk about twenty times as much as he does, and that we laugh at exactly the same things. I didn't realize it was still true, but I guess I wasn't surprised.
Late one night Schmidt and I talked very briefly about my separation from Wife. Schmidt said that when he first met Wife, "I found her very entertaining. She could get on a rant about something and was great fun to listen to. It was only later that I realized she was serious about those rants." And of course he was right: back then, Wife was very entertaining. Her high dudgeons could be hilariously funny. She's less funny now. Also, I talked about my conviction that Wife was bipolar -- manic-depressive. She has always claimed that she's just a depressive, but her psychiatrist treats her with drugs that are for bipolar disorder and her moods seem a lot more stable. What is more, I explained that part of what was attractive about Wife back then was precisely those spells that must (in retrospect) have been manic episodes, during which she could get excited about something in ways that transported us all, and when she could make the preposterous sound just within reach.
At one point we began talking about people we both new in college. I haven't kept in touch with any of them. Schmidt has kept in touch with a few, mostly people I don't think I'm that interested in seeing again. (But of course, people change. Maybe I'm wrong to keep my distance.) Then Ma Schmidt remarked that Marie still visits them from time to time, and has a standing invitation for Thanksgiving dinner. Marie was my girlfriend in college: I mention her in this post, for instance, as the only girl to get naked with me after I was four years old and before I met Wife. I had kept in touch with Marie after college, and even after marriage, but it was always a difficult communication. Marie had been in love with me in a very needy way, and I was frightened by her. So she pulled closer while I pushed away, over and over. Once she broke off communication for several years because "Being 'just friends' doesn't work for me." And when we finally fell out of touch the second (and hitherto final) time it was for much the same reason.
Still, that was years ago. So I mentioned casually that I had lost touch with her (I'm not sure how much of the back story he knows, but in any event Son 2 was there at the time) and asked for her address. Schmidt gave me what he thought was her address, but said it might be out of date. And so I think I want to write her a letter ....
Saturday, August 29, 2015
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