Saturday, I went to a dear friend's house to retrieve some dishes he was kind enough to let me store when I left for Afghanistan. My god. I searched for over half an hour, straight, in one tiny room, until I found them. I know some folks who are widely respected, and read, in the blogosphere and online community. I love these people.
But I have stood in dirty kitchens, been knee-deep in hair balls, gun articles, and sturdy swords, and stared, amazed, at piles of empty Diet Mountain Dew bottles and discarded potato chip bags. I may be hanging out with someone who has mastered the new rhetoric, conquered the old-style battle reminiscence, or awed the world with artistic talent, but from where I'm standing, they have feet of clay.
Sigh. But I love them. Regardless of what you hear, reality is better than fantasy, and a real, live, steadfast friend is better than any imaginary icon. Even if they can't cook, or keep the world's most untidy home. Warts and all.
So, let's raise a glass to friendship...somewhere else, where I can see the floor!