By John Carbone
Recently I phoned an old fri/files/storyimages/of mine. Even though we have both relocated several times over the past 30 years, we’ve stayed connected, maintaining the friendship via long-distance — and sometimes long-winded — phone conversations. During this latest call we discussed a recurring mutual experience, not something that we have done but rather a behavior that our wives share. It seems that after each of our phone conversations, his wife inquires, “How’s John?” and mine, “How’s Bunky?” (Don’t ask.) We both respond, “I dunno. Fine, I guess.”
My fri/files/storyimages/and I (I’m going to try to refrain from using his nickname so it’s not a distraction) have similar interests. We talk about sports, politics, pop culture and current events. We mostly talk about movies, as this was the first common denominator of our friendship. We never ask after each other beyond the perfunctory “How’re ya doin’?” — the immediate and eternal response being, “Fine. You?” At this point a final “fine” sums up that line of inquiry before we move on to more pressing concerns like whether The Searchers or Rio Bravo was a better Western.
My wife Donna and his wife Tam are aghast at this. They cannot grasp that two old friends know so little about what is happening in each other’s lives. We see no problem.
Donna knows more about the medical history, children and sex lives of casual acquaintances than I do about Bunky (oops!). She will come home from a business trip and launch into a story about how so-and-so has had a hysterectomy and how her daughter has a substance-abuse problem. I will eventually realize Donna is talking to me and feign interest long enough to ask something like: “Have I met your fri/files/storyimages/at any company events?” — only to be told, “Oh, this isn’t a colleague from work; this is a woman who sat next to me on my flight. She had to fly through Louisville to make her connection to Albany.” Huh?
I have encountered this phenomenon in women before. Once, while at a nation-wide conference, a woman approached me and remarked how easy it was for men to relate to one another at these events. She said she was jealous of the casual comradeship that we had and that the women at the conference seemed to lack this ability to bond at a superficial level. She noted that men could start talking baseball and, regardless of whence they came, sports and other such diversions seemed to suffice as meaningful topics. She went on to say that the few things women have in common all related to their families. I think she had more to say on the subject, but I wandered off at that point to join an argument nearby about whether the St. Louis Cardinals’ Bob Gibson or the Philadelphia Phillies’ Steve Carlton would be more difficult to catch.
I do not understand how women can communicate so intimately with absolute strangers. Telling people that you have had your reproductive system tampered with or that a child you know is hooked on crack is beyond my ken. (Frankly, I would have to be smoking dope to even allow someone to discuss the medical history of his or her nether region.)
My casual male acquaintances fit nicely into niches. They exist in my life for a stated and defined purpose. There is this fellow that I see for coffee occasionally. He likes jogging and University of Louisville basketball. Beyond that I am ignorant of any details of his personal life. I certainly would not want to know if he had a vasectomy. I would not know how to respond to a casual acquaintance who would tell me something that personal. Donna crosses these lines all the time.
She also maintains regular lines of communication with friends in other cities. She has set phone dates with her friends (they keep track of whose turn it is to call), whereas I and mine do not adhere to any schedule or definable pattern. Our impetus could be a ball game of mutual interest or merely a whim. We can talk as often as twice a month or as rarely as twice a year. The call can last as little as 10 minutes or as long as an hour and a half. Regardless, the opening line will be, “How’re ya doin’?”
