Faux Fu

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My Friend

I have a friend I haven't seen for many years now. He used to live in Chicago. We met through a mutual friend and for some reason we immediately connected. He was born in Poland. Grew up in a small town outside of Warsaw. His father had a job in the Communist government.

Poland changed. There was Lech Walesa. Solidarity. The Communist government failed. My friends father's life changed, and after a few years of "retirement," he died of a heart attack in his fifties. My friend went to art school in Poland. After he graduated, some years passed, things happened, and then somehow, someway, he ended up in Chicago. He was here without a work visa. Kind of slipped through the cracks. He dated a woman who worked in our theater group. That's how we met.

He and I were from two totally different backgrounds. I was older than him, we grew up with so many different cultural references. There was so much that separated us. At the same time, there was this amazing connection. We laughed. We drank. We talked. We laughed some more. We worked together on a play. I got him to act. He was new to acting. It was a challenge. It was fun. We did some great work together.

After struggling at some quite menial jobs, my great friend, decided America just wasn't gonna work out for him. It's a hard life here if you don't have money, if you're not willing to join the Polish mafia. There's the sex trade, dope, etc. Not exactly the life for a country boy with the heart of a poet. So he went back to Poland.

Over the years I have heard from him sporadically. He is kind of the "international man of mystery." Very much a man of my own inclination. He's in Germany, in London, in Ireland. Doing import/export in Prague. I get an e-mail. Sometimes a snapshot. Usually there's no explanation. No great exchange of words. Just a "hello" from somewhere out in the world.

It's all kind of sad. I think about those fleeting times together. My good friend. There is so much time and distance. And still when I hear from him I remember how it was cool just to be together. We didn't want anything from each other, it was great just to hang together. To talk, create, laugh. A real rarity. Two loners really, somehow able to connect. And well, the years go on, and there's so much to say, and then there's the long, dark silence. My friend is out there somewhere. I am here. And then well, I guess that has to be enough.

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