I figured I’d write about my second favorite topic “Beer” or more precisely “Miller Lite”. Although Miller Lite isn’t the new popular micro-brews, the hippest of beers or does it go well with the finest of dinning, I thought I’d write about what “My Miller Lite” goes well with.
My Miller Lite goes well with Friendships. I’ve had and have lots of friends over the ages. Some are still with us and some have gone to a better place. Some have just moved on and some are beside me daily. One thing we’ve always had in common is Miller Lite and our love for a good time.
Things I’ve done with Miller Lite. I’ve done the good and the bad, the legal and crossed the border and back. I’ve loved, hated and wrecked cars. I’ve celebrated, cried, dreamed and got married once. But most of all I’ve met people. People with interesting stories and some with not. These people that share their stories, their stories of life, our lives, is why I write today. It’s why I want to share my story.
It’s about a friendship… my friend Lee. We didn’t meet until High school, 10th grade English to be exact. I was a somewhat popular kid with mostly more popular friends (I rode on the coat tails) and Lee I really didn’t know (not to say everyone else didn’t know him). It was a Friday with nothing to do, so I asked him if he wanted to go out and go to the Football game or maybe it was a Basketball game (the downside of Miller Lite…memory loss). I had picked up some beer on my way to his house and as he climbed into the car I handed him one. He hadn’t drank beer but maybe just to taste it before this night. Me, I was an old pro…so I thought. Time would discover that I was not the man I thought myself to be. We drank the 12 pack as we rode around and went to the game. On our way home, we took turns getting sick from the ill effects of over indulgence. There were times we drank our beer and talked about girls, life and even the time I fell off the back of his Honda V35 magna. It hurt, but I’m sure nowhere near the time we hit the guardrail at the end of Tempe Rd in my dad’s brand new Chevy S10 pickup truck and Lee bit through his tongue (I was driving). There was the time we were on old stone road when we were seniors and all the girls were with us. When we were leaving Lee was hanging out the window yelling at the girls behind us and me driving from the passenger seat; driving us right into the ditch that would cost me $20 to the farmer that pulled us out, only to find out later that Lee’s knee hit the stirring wheel that made us venture off road.
Through all this and what was to come, a friendship was born that would stand the test of time. The time I spent in the Marine Corps and came back to find him still here for me, the time of my marriage when we didn’t have time for each other. The time through my inevitable divorce when we drank instead of cried. The times when he helped me yet once again fix a car, fix a lawn mower, fix a furnace (last night), and to the many times he will be there for me in the future.
So whether you drink my favorite Miller Lite or not, raise your glass and toast to friendships born that last a lifetime. If you don’t have a friendship like this, then venture into your local bar, pub, tavern or English class and talk to someone new. It just might last forever.