I recently found myself trying to explain to my teenage son that not everyone who says they are your friend actually is. Trying to explain the subjectivity of morality, and the fact that depending on what circles you choose to run in, one can probably find justification for just about anything. This particular dilemma was in response to a young love affair involving him, a girl, and the ever-popular betrayal by his “best” friend. What…I know right? In trying to make my point, I shared what I considered one of my best Confucius-Esque proverbs.
“Suppose”, I challenged him, “you were at a party and as you were passing through a crowd of friends, you lost a twenty-dollar bill out of your pocket. Oblivious to this, you continued on your merry way to put the latest M&M CD into the jam box.” “Jam box, what’s that?” He asked. “Oh sorry…ah stereo”, still, bewilderment? “, MP Player…” “Oh”, (sometimes you could almost see the bulb turning on).
I continued. “Then imagine that each of these friends is the only one to see it. Now visualize what you think each would do. Time has taught me that more-often-than-not there are two basic responses. Both of which I have witnessed first hand. The first and sadly perhaps most common response will be for this supposed friend to walk over, nonchalantly step on the bill, and then after looking around to ensure that no one else has seen this cash cow, slowly bend down to straighten their cuff, and slick as whip slide it up their leg and into the nearest pocket.
Now you will never know that they found the twenty bucks you are about to realize you are missing, and most likely they will never tell you, and you will remain friends. But what kind of friends. On the other hand, it is a fortunate person indeed who happens to find the other kind of friend. The kind that upon witnessing the exact same situation unfold will likewise retrieve the wayward Jackson but then chase you down and enthusiastically inform you that you are a limp biscuits, shim shady, moron, who deserves to be robbed of all worldly possessions. Or whatever the heck it is that this Mars Caramel Candies guy raps about.”
“Ah!” (The bulb was still on…a good sign) “That is a good friend.” he nodded. But he opined, maybe he is afraid that someone else saw me drop it? On the other hand, I shot back; maybe he is just that kind of person. Maybe he values his integrity and your friendship more than he does twenty bucks. Some people are just like that. To further illustrate my point, I went on to tell him about another time in my life where I had witnessed such outstanding character first hand.
“Several years ago” I began, “I had a job that required I wear a suit every day. (He rolled his eyes at the prospect of being trapped in a moving car with his father who was about to launch into another one of his long boring war stories), I matter-of-factly reached out and hit the door locks (Click!). Just in case, he decided to jump for it. “As your mother and I have never been blessed with a ton of money. I had taken to shopping at local used/thrift stores for affordable options to piece together a workable wardrobe.
On one particular evening, after collecting several thousand dollars in payments that I would mail to cooperate in the morning, I decided to swing by and see if one of them had any new stock. Making my way down the isles, I had finally settled on a few items and headed for the checkout counter. After the cashier totaled my purchases, I reached into my pocket to pay, only to realize that I had a problem. I was not wearing my jacket (which I had taken off to try on others). And while that jacket itself was a nondescript enough trench coat leftover from my Navy Days, of much larger concern was the fact that it had contained most of the aforementioned receipts!
“No way”! He whistled. “Yes way” I countered…”So what did you do”? He asked, his interest piqued. “Well obviously the first thing I did was turn that store upside down, but no luck. So eventually, I left the store stunned by the situation and convinced my career and maybe even my freedom was at stake. Only to then realize that I had also lost the only set of keys to our car. Long story short: After calling a locksmith to make another set and paying with what little money I had left. I slowly began my commute home. How was I going to explain this to your mother? How was I going to explain this to my boss?”
“Pulling into the driveway, I made my way up the front steps and into the house where your mother greeted me, asking if I was “missing anything?” How did she know…I wondered? I struggled to come up with a plausible excuse for such a knuckle-headed maneuver. To come up with some assurances that things were not nearly as bad as I knew they really were. ‘Well,’ I began timidly. You see, I stopped by the Goodwill on the way home and, and”…she cut me off. “And I bet you lost your trench coat. And, I bet all of your collections were in it, weren’t they?’ ‘Yes, but…how do you know that already” I asked.
“Because, she continued, some stranger stopped by here twenty minutes ago and said that after they got home from the store they found this coat in their bag that they had not paid for. And that when they searched the pockets they found this money, this wallet, and this driver's license, which had your name and address on it. So being sure that this much money would be very important to whoever lost it, they then drove over here right away to return it.”
So where the rubber-meets-the-road, a complete stranger ended up with well over two thousand dollars of completely untraceable monies, theirs for the taking. And given the store, they were shopping in one could have easily assumed that it would have made a world of difference in their lives also. They had absolutely no way of knowing how dramatically that loss might have affected my young family. Yet in spite of all of that or maybe because of it, they did the right thing and drove miles out of their way to return it.
I never did get a chance to thank her personally. But I pray that she knows I think of her often and that I am forever grateful for the example that she set, and the lesson that she taught. Not only did she show me that those “type” of people actually exist. Even more importantly, she gave me a much clearer picture of the kind of person “I” wanted to be. And I can only hope that given an opportunity someday I might somehow find the character, compassion, and courage to repay her kindness by “Paying it forward”. “Bruce Willis”, my son sprang from his stupor. “The old bald guy and the dead kid”, ahh…his voice trailing off as he not so tactfully glanced away from my own reseeding hairline.
We drove on for several minutes in silence after that, me imagining his young mind deep in thought about the nature of goodness, and honesty, and such. Finally, we turned the corner into the ballpark as I reached out and tousled his hair. You know Son, maybe she wasn’t the one for you after all. You are a bright, good-looking, young man, with a good heart and if she couldn’t see that then maybe it’s for the best that you found out about her and Nick anyways. Give it some time. It will get better, you’ll see. Looking back at me he smiled that smile that parents just live for and exited the truck (after I unlocked the doors of course…) As he walked away I was feeling fuller of myself than I had in quite some time.
Then, he turned around and headed back. ”What’s the matter,” I asked as he opened the door, put his ball bag on the seat, and began feverishly unzipping pockets? “What did you forget, your glove?” “No no,” he said. “Your cleats?” “No, no, hold on.” “What is it,” I asked growing more concerned? “Well...you know that twenty bucks mom gave me, I can’t seem to find it. “Are you kidding me”, I blurted out more harshly than I had intended, as I began to launch into one of my money does not grow on trees spiels…when I stopped mid-sentence.
“You know,” I said reaching into my wallet“, here's some more. When you get home please check your room to make sure you didn’t drop it somewhere, OK”? As he took my money he sheepishly offered, “Well at least I didn’t steal it from you huh dad”. “Quit being a smart-alack” was the best I could muster. As he walked away for the second time, it slowly began to dawn on me that the proverbial nut had not fallen far from the tree. And as such, it was only a matter of time before I would be able to reach out and rub his by-then balding head, while gently reminding him, ”hey kid…do you remember when?” Brahahahah! But then again what did I know I was just a smuck.
I recently found myself trying to explain to my teenage son that not everyone who says they are your friend actually is. Trying to explain the subjectivity of morality, and the fact that depending on what circles you choose to run in, one can probably find justification for just about anything. This particular dilemma was in response to a young love affair involving him, a girl, and the ever-popular betrayal by his “best” friend. What…I know right? In trying to make my point, I shared what I considered one of my best Confucius-esque proverbs.
“Suppose”, I challenged him, “you were at a party and as you were passing through a crowd of friends, you lost a twenty-dollar bill out of your pocket. Oblivious to this, you continued on your merry way to put the latest M&M CD into the jam box.” “Jam box, what’s that?” He asked. “Oh sorry…ah stereo”, still, bewilderment? “, MP Player…” “Oh”, (sometimes you could almost see the bulb turning on).
I continued. “Then imagine that each of these friends is the only one to see it. Now visualize what you think each would do. Time has taught me that more-often-than-not there are two basic responses. Both of which I have witnesses first hand. The first and sadly perhaps most common response will be for this supposed friend to walk over, nonchalantly step on the bill, and then after looking around to insure that no one else has seen this cash cow, slowly bend down to straighten their cuff, and slick as whip slide it up their leg and into the nearest pocket.
Now you will never know that they found the twenty bucks you are about to realize you are missing, and most likely they will never tell you, and you will remain friends. But what kind of friends. On the other hand, it is a fortunate person indeed who happens to find the other kind of friend. The kind that upon witnessing the exact same situation unfold will likewise retrieve the wayward Jackson, but then chase you down and enthusiastically inform you that you are a limp biscuits, shim shady, moron, who deserves to be robbed of all worldly possessions. Or whatever the heck it is that this Mars Caramel Candies guy raps about.”
“Ah!” (The bulb was still on…a good sign) “That is a good friend.” he nodded. But he opined, maybe he is afraid that someone else saw me drop it? On the other hand, I shot back; maybe he is just that kind of person. Maybe he values his integrity and your friendship more than he does twenty bucks. Some people are just like that. To further illustrate my point, I went on to tell him about another time in my life where I had witnessed such outstanding character first hand.
“Several years ago” I began, “I had a job that required I wear a suit every day. (He rolled his eyes at the prospect of being trapped in a moving car with his father who was about to launch into another one of his long boring war stories), I matter-of-factly reached out and hit the door locks (Click!). Just in case, he decided to jump for it. “As your mother and I have never been blessed with a ton of money. I had taken to shopping at local used/thrift stores for affordable options to piece together a workable wardrobe.
On one particular evening, after collecting several thousand dollars in payments that I would mail to cooperate in the morning, I decided to swing by and see if one of them had any new stock. Making my way down the isles, I had finally settled on a few items, and headed for the checkout counter. After the cashier totaled my purchases, I reached into my pocket to pay, only to realize that I had a problem. I was not wearing my jacket (which I had taken off to try on others). And while that jacket itself was a nondescript enough trench coat leftover from my Navy Days, of much larger concern was the fact that it had contained most of the aforementioned receipts!
“No way”! He whistled. “Yes way” I countered…”So what did you do”? He asked, his interest piqued. “Well obviously the first thing I did was turn that store upside down, but no luck. So eventually, I left the store stunned by the situation and convinced my career and maybe even my freedom were at stake. Only to then realize that I had also lost the only set of keys to our car. Long story short: After calling a locksmith to make another set and paying with what little money I had left. I slowly began my commute home. How was I going to explain this to your mother? How was I going to explain this to my boss?”
“Pulling into the driveway, I made my way up the front steps and into the house where your Mother greeted me, asking if I was “missing anything?” How did she know…I wondered? I struggled to come up with a plausible excuse for such a knuckle-headed maneuver. To come up with some assurances that things were not nearly as bad as I knew they really were. ‘Well,’ I began timidly. You see, I stopped by the Goodwill on the way home and, and”…she cut me off. “And I bet you lost your trench coat. And, I bet all of your collections were in it, weren’t they?’ ‘Yes, but…how do you know that already” I asked.
“Because, she continued, some stranger stopped by here twenty minutes ago and said that after they got home from the store they found this coat in their bag that they had not paid for. And that when they searched the pockets they found this money, this wallet, and this drivers license, which had your name and address on it. So being sure that this much money would be very important to whoever lost it, they then drove over here right away to return it.”
So where the rubber-meets-the-road, a complete stranger ended up with well over two thousand dollars of completely untraceable monies, theirs for the taking. And given the store they were shopping in one could have easily assumed that it would have made a world of difference in their lives also. They had absolutely no way of knowing how dramatically that loss might have affected my young family. Yet in spite of all of that or maybe because of it, they did the right thing and drove miles out of their way to return it.
I never did get a chance to thank her personally. But I pray that she knows I think of her often, and that I am forever grateful for the example that she set, and the lesson that she taught. Not only did she show me that those “type” of people actually exist. Even more importantly, she gave me a much clearer picture of the kind of person “I” wanted to be. And I can only hope that given an opportunity someday I might somehow find the character, compassion, and courage to repay her kindness by “Paying it forward”. “Bruce Willis”, my son sprang from his stupor. “The old bald guy and the dead kid”, ahh…his voice trailing off as he not so tactfully glanced away from my own reseeding hairline.
We drove on for several minutes in silence after that, me imagining his young mind deep in thought about the nature of goodness, and honesty, and such. Finally, we turned the corner into the ballpark as I reached out and tousled his hair. You know Son, maybe she wasn’t the one for you after all. You are a bright, good-looking, young man, with a good heart and if she couldn’t see that then maybe it’s for the best that you found out about her and Nick anyways. Give it some time. It will get better, you’ll see. Looking back at me he smiled that smile that parents just live for and exited the truck (after I unlocked the doors of course…) As he walked away I was feeling fuller of myself than I had in quite some time.
Then, he turned around and headed back. ”What’s the matter” I asked as he opened the door, put his ball bag on the seat, and began feverishly unzipping pockets? “What did you forget, your glove?” “No no” he said. “Your cleats?” “No, no, hold on.” “What is it” I asked growing more concerned? “Well...you know that twenty bucks mom gave me, I can’t seem to find it. “Are you kidding me”, I blurted out more harshly than I had intended, as I began to launch into one of my money does not grow on trees spiels…when I stopped mid sentence.
“You know,” I said reaching into my wallet“, here’s some more. When you get home please check your room to make sure you didn’t drop it somewhere, OK”? As he took my money he sheepishly offered, “Well at least I didn’t steal it from you huh dad”. “Quit being a smart-alack” was the best I could muster. As he walked away for the second time, it slowly began to dawn on me that the proverbial nut had not fallen far from the tree. And as such it was only a matter of time before I would be able to reach out and rub his by-then balding head, while gently reminding him, ”hey kid…do you remember when?” Brahahahah! But than again what did I know I was just a schmuck.