I’m in an odd stage in my life. At 31, married, two kids, working like a dog and rigorously fighting against becoming what I thought adults were like when I was a kid.
But as I age, an unexpected angle has taken shape, one that I could not have predicted. Most of my friends, believers in this mobile society of ours, have spread out.
Alex lives in Georgia, James lives in Mansfield. A buddy that was in my wedding lives in San Diego. Travis, in Iowa. Me, I’m in Columbus.
It’s real easy to make friends in when you’re in college. You’re around people all the time that are in the same stage in life that you are. Plus most college folk often like good ale. Two commonalities.
But how to adults make friends? That’s what I’m asking myself. Where does a married guy go to meet some new people and, well, not feel gay about it? Does one walk into a coffee shop and say, “hey, any males in here want to be friends in a perfectly heterosexual, non-gay way?”
Part of the trouble is there seems to be less commonality between people as you grow up and your life gets more and more complicated.
I’m sure part of it has to do with the fact that many of my hobbies are solitary ones. Woodworking. Down in my basement shop, surrounded by power tools isn’t a great place to meet new people. Reading non-fiction books. Again, sitting on my couch with the latest book on String Theory isn’t introducing me to new people. Xbox. Yes, the trusty Xbox. Most people I bump into at EBGames are easily half my age.
It takes me back to an old Jerry Seinfeld joke: When you’re in your 30s, maybe you don’t need new friends, you need a good retirement plan.
Maybe my 401k is my best friend.