Humans are plentiful; friends are in short supply, but infinite in possibility. A friend is someone who has truly accepted you, taking all your best into them and offering you their best in return.

Once you get to know me you realize there just isn’t a lot there. It’s not that I’m shallow — it’s just that I’m a three trick pony. Hang around me for any length of time and you’ll get the idea. You’ll start to notice that you heard me tell this joke before, were struck by that witty comment sometime last month, saw the same nervous tick last week when I got upset about the state of baseball in America. And that’s when it hits you. I’m boring. Nice, but really boring. Oh, I don’t blame you. You think it’s bad for you, imagine being me. I’ve been living with myself for nearly thirty years now. It’s no walk in the park.

I pushed the door open with both hands and sauntered to the soda counter. Sitting on an old high stool I gazed around and took in the shelves that ran floor to ceiling. The smell of mildew stung the air and I felt as if I were trespassing time itself.

I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to help many people tell their stories over the years. Every now and then, I go back and read those stories; I often find I’m moved all over again – both by the story itself and the great honor to be asked to tell it.