Today is not only the birthday of my dear friend, Paul, it also marks the 21st anniversary of our friendship. Twenty-one years! When we met, Paul was right out of high school and I had to buy his beer for him. He was an aspiring writer and I a budding composer. We became the core group of La Boheme, a troupe of friends who, despite growth pains both as individuals and as a family, and fallings-out and fallings-in, have never ceased to adore and celebrate each others’ creative quirks.The night that I met Paul (the eve of his birthday) seems like it was only about 5 years ago. Since then, he has found his soul mate (if I recall, it’s their anniversary too), moved to Atlanta, began a business in historic restoration, and has made a name for himself in his community. He was also my Best Man at my and Nettl’s Holy Union Service in 2001.
This may make me sound like an old fart (I was 34 when we met), but I’m proud of who Paul has become. So happy birthday Paul. I love you. And now that our friendship is old enough to drink, I wish we could be together tonight for a pitcher of your oh, so perfect martinis!
