A Thought about Friendship

Chloe, the world's laziest pussycat, is asleep in some corner of her apartment in The Big Shmapple, while her caregiver The Great Dancenik enjoys a brief visit to Saint Plotniko.

Last night, while drinking tea in the almost-finished NEW STUDIO, Dancenik, Ducknik and Plotnik came to a rather telling realization about friendship:

You'll go to some lengths to see your friends in another city, but you won't do it for your friends in your own city.

Think about it: Dancenik phoned Plot and Duck at 7PM and was sitting with her feet under the kitchen table by 8PM. She never did that when she lived two miles away, and Plot and Duck would never have thought about doing it either.

At the same time, Dancenik, and Ducknik, and Plotnik, and everyone else for that matter, are always going on about how few real friends they have, if they're lucky enough to have any at all. But how much effort do any of us make to see each other, to hang out, to sit around eating and drinking a glass of wine, without making a big Federal Case out of planning some event?

If Dancenik hadn't showed up out of the blue last night, Plotnik and Ducknik would most likely have strung some more cables, or put another coat of paint on some paint-deprived object, and been forced to eat their humble meal of bbq'd top sirloin with grilled onions, brown saffron rice, snow peas and snap peas from the garden, fresh cabbage and arugula salad and roasted red peppers all by their lonesomes.

Wake up! Listen to Pop Staples: "Shake a Hand, Make a Friend."

Then listen to Auntie Melba: "Good to see you, Honey. Come rest your feet awhile."