It’s now been 50 years. A half century of friendship with all of life’s ups and downs.
On June 8th, travel editor Stu Cooper and I will “celebrate” our Golden Anniversary of being together. We’ll probably spend it yelling at each other.
How am I so certain as to the exact date? It was supposed to be my wedding day.
The backstory: My “ life plan” was that upon graduating college and before I entered law school, the girl I met when I was only 15 (and she 12); the “little sweetheart” I took to my high school prom, and who by-passed college to attend Secretarial School so she can work with me when I became an attorney would be married on June 8, 1975.
Both set of parents approved and plans for an elaborate wedding were made. There was only one problem.
With the pressure of being a first-year law student and just “not ready” I broke off the engagement. My financee and both families were crushed.
Now before I get back to Stu, there is a “happy ending” regarding those matrimonial plans. Fourteen months after this wedding date, and after completing my initial year in Law School, I happily walked down the aisle and tied the forever knot with my Amy.
We were husband and wife for 35 years until her unexpected passing. And as Amy remembered (and told everyone) I “came crawling back to her begging for a second choice, ” since it was solely my loss that we did not have that first year of marital bliss.
While my recollection and memory of the events (greatly) differed from hers, I soon realized that my life would be much happier if I simply nodded in agreement and kept my mouth shut when she repeated her story. Happy wife, happy life indeed.
Anyway, back to Stu. I spent my “wedding day” alone in an empty dormitory at Lewis University in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. My conditional admission to this Law School was predicated on passing a four week “pre-law” class.
As the first student to arrive, there I was in this dreary and very silent building. To say I was beyond sad and feeling sorry for myself is an understatement.
Eventually another guy entered the building. He said he was also from Long Island. His name. Stuart Cooper.
Since that initial encounter, we have spent five decades together. We probably know more about each other and our families than any two friends.
He was in my wedding party when Amy and I married that next year and I had the same honor when he married Sharon.
We’ve shared our children’s (and for him, now grandchildren’s) trials and tribulations and were there for each other when our respective parents (and my Amy) died.
Amy, and now my PILL (partner in love & life) Rana and I have vacationed and traveled with Stu and Sharon around the world – from Europe to Hawaii and just about everywhere in-between.
Despite my yelling and screaming, I could not imagine nor would even consider going anywhere without the Coopers. Stu’s been there for me – all the good (and not so good) times and I would like to think that it’s reciprocal.
What’s our secret for such a long and ever-lasting friendship? The “secret sauce” that binds us together: I don’t listen to him and he ignores what I say.
Suffice to say, we’ve had our share of joy and laughter few friends have had.
I admit, I have used (at times) numerous vile expressions while calling him many names with colorful adjectives and adverbs over the years. But one term that was, is and remains forever constant, “my best friend.”
