Define "Friend": A Friend Is...

I found this in The New York Times Magazine Obituary Issue. It's from the orbit of Vaughn Meader. (No, I hadn't heard of him before now, either.)

"Vaughn was a good friend; he was a true friend," says his friend Liz Munster, who met him 20-odd years ago when she caught his act at the Rockwood Motor Inn in Maine. A good friend will bail you out of jail. Vaughn, being a true friend, would be sitting right next to you in jail, laughing, saying, 'Damn, wasn't that fun?'"

I have a lot of friends like that. In that regard, I'm an undeservedly fortunate man. (By the way, if any of you are reading this, about all those awkward moments in job interviews and added questions to your governmental background checks, my bad. I'm sorry.)

I still don't have any A.C. friends. At least, I don't think I do.

A.C., Al Cowlings, is the avatar of friendship according to George Clooney. In the latest issue of Esquire magazine, he says,

I embrace Al Cowlings for being the guy O.J. called up and said, "Dude, they're framing my ass. Start up the car. Get me $20,000 and a passport. Let's get on the road." It's very easy to be a friend when the pressure's not on. I embrace the man who can get in a car and drive his buddy in the blindness of all reality and truth--which is his buddy just murdered two people. Total blindness. I admire that. I'd like to have friends like that. I'd like to think I'm that friend.

Hell, everyone would like to think he's that friend, and, as long as you promise never to need me to come up with$20,000, your passport, and a getaway car, I am that friend. Count on me. In the event of an actual double murder, though, not so much. Then, it would be best if you'd think of me as your drive-you-to-the-law-guy-and-chip-in-on-bail pal.

It doesn't mean I love you any less than A.C. loved O.J.; it simply means, I'm less dependable.