I ran into an old friend a few days ago in a department store. I almost didn't recognize him.

It actually wasn't because he had changed so much, quite the contrary. It was because he looked so much the same as he had looked 15 years before and my mind couldn't accept that.

He had always been a thin fellow and remained so, but he also managed to keep his same late 1970s hair style. Of course, spending your life with a haircut that is more than acceptable for a member of the Monkeys isn't my idea of happiness. On the other hand, at least he didn't have to start doing to comb-over to hide his ever-growing scalp like some people I know. Times like these I try to pull out a twisted Alfred E. Newman line. What, me lose hair?

No, the drain in the tub is just growing hair on its own, it just happens to do so when I take a shower. Sure, that's the ticket. Anyhow, we were talking about my friend. He told me he is now a paralegal. "How can you be a paralegal if their is only one of you. Is that like that schizophrenia thing, ‘I'm a legal and so am I?'" He reminded me of the paramedic title. "There's only one of them, too," he said.

"Actually, when an ambulance comes, there is usually one person driving and one in the back. That's why they are called paramedics," I replied. "Maybe you are called a paralegal because a lawyer usually double-bills all of his or her clients to pay your salary."

I wasn't being mean, we always had a back and forth bantering thing going on. I was glad that he hadn't changed so much that he couldn't remember the way things used to be. Most people do.

We exchanged a few other words and promised to keep in touch, but we won't. We both have our own lives now in different areas and not enough time to spend traveling and visiting.

Even so, I know that talking to him helped me remember being a teenager. For a few minutes there, I could remember the ‘old days' so well that I almost felt like they were still with us. Then it was all gone and I was left to come back to the tasks at hand — in this case finding new bulbs for my florescent lantern.

A lot of the people I knew when I was younger are as different inside as they are outside. I am very different outside, but inside I feel like I haven't changed my personality.

I still enjoy joking and carrying on with people, just like then. I don't take offense easily, especially when I meet up with an old friend. But some of my old pals have changed so much that we can't even talk. I remember once before I saw a former friend while dining in a restaurant. He went around the table shaking hands. "I don't want to shake your hand," I said. "I don't know where it's been." He walked away, obviously offended over something as silly as that. However, when we knew each other before, we always enjoyed joking around with one another.

I felt bad about the incident, but meant no harm to him. I later wrote him a letter explaining my actions and put it in the mail. He didn't write me back, but my conscience was clear.

I have been a little more cautious about joking with former friends since that happened. Some people are fragile inside like a thin-shelled egg and it takes very little to expose their yolk. There is nothing worse than having your yolk exposed, in my opinion. The problem with yolks is that they run away until they get fried or hard-boiled.

As for the fellow I angered, I guess I should have used better judgement and he should have cooked his egg.

I think you have to spend time with most people or they forget about you. I am not like that. I don't feel like a person ever stops being my friend until some major ‘event' occurs. For instance, I had several friends decide to quit seeing me after I loaned them money. That's a great way to get rid of false friends. A $50 dollar loan can save you millions in heart-ache down the road.

When I talked to one man the other day, he was obviously worried about what I may say or do to him. However, he had come in need again. Some people are just permanently needy.

They don't take steps to take care of tomorrow today. Instead, they are still trying to make up for the stupidity of yesterday.

Anyhow, this one fellow I made a loan to was once a good friend. In fact, we had been friends for more than three years when he borrowed a sizeable sum and skipped town. He still has yet to repay me. No matter.

When I saw him, I delivered shocking news — at least he thought so. He immediately started stammering about how he would pay me when he got some money. Maybe it was going to be when his rich uncle got out of the poor house, or something like that.

I told him I forgave the debt. "You don't owe me anything. I wish you well," I told him. "Take care of yourself."

After that, I walked off and didn't look back. Parting ways wasn't as significant as it might seem, since I hadn't seen him in three years or so anyhow.

I discovered long ago that when someone ‘does me wrong,' I need to forgive. If I didn't, then not only would I be burdened by their actions, I would also be burdened by my own feelings of anger or hatred. If you forgive a person, it is their problem to deal with what happened. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? Not this old boy.

Now, I just try to ‘shake the dust off my feet' and move on. I even have a category set up in my finances for these experiences. It can be found under the heading of ‘education.' I have had a lot of that kind of education in my time, as I suppose everyone has. On the other hand, I have made some true friends in life, though they are few and far between. One honest friend is more valuable to me than any number of false friends and acquaintances.

Most people can count the true friends they make in the period of a lifetime on the fingers of one hand, I have heard. That seems like an awful shame in some ways; but then again, maybe that's for the best. I can't afford many more ‘friends' like that.

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