Retirement blog about old friends

Does friendship mean something different to us as a retired person than when we were working? At this early stage in this retirement blog the answer is, ‘probably’ but we shall see as the blog develops. My initial thought is that, given so many friendships came about through work, we might well expect to make less friends in retirement. Throw into this equation the fact that many of my other friends developed through playing sport of one kind and another particularly playing cricket for 30 odd years.

I don’t play any sport these days and I haven’t worked for 6 and a half years so it’s a miracle I have any friends at all. They also have a bit of a habit of dying on me. So that’s not good. True I play some music and that could offer new opportunities to make friends. Could, but on the whole it hasn’t, acquaintances yes, friends, no.

Actually on reflection that’s not strictly true. Only last weekend I had a ‘friend’s request’ on Facebook and actually accepted it. I don’t know how this system works. Does the person actually want you as a friend and take action to make this happen. Or does Facebook just make the pairing from some kind of digital connection not caring whether the relationship exists or happens or not. I lean to the latter because I get requests from people I’ve never heard of and of course refuse them.

This one, as I say, I accepted as it was from one of the folk fiddle group. I’ll call him Malcolm and I hope he doesn’t read this because I’m going to admit that I like him. Before Brexit he had a sticker on his squeezebox or accordion, whatever it is, saying succinctly ‘Bollocks to Brexit’. Precisely. He did remove it when we played the gig in a church but replaced it with a row of fairy lights attached to his beard. Very tasteful I thought. Also he plays some lovely tunes which are fun to accompany on the guitar. So friendship, at least in Facebook form, in this case, seems like a good thing.

While we’re on Facebook matters amongst all the junk there’s the odd item of interest from other friends around the world. One of my Australian chums posted a request to his neighbours asking ‘are you keen to have a fire assessment?’ He lives out in the country in Western Australia and, as a fire-marshall (I think), has somewhat different concerns to yours truly.

On the other side of the planet in the USA, another friend posted a lovely video clip of a busker, in New York I assume. His guitar case was full of money and the sign asked people who needed money (the homeless for example) to take money rather than give it. Kind of restores one’s faith a bit at these difficult times. The busker said that people only took what they needed rather than taking the whole lot. Nice, and nice that a real friend could share this with me and many others of course.

The topic for this retirement blog – friends – was suggested by one of my commenters and I wondered why I hadn’t ever written one on the subject before. My immediate response to that question was that, if I had done, it might have been rather on the negative side. I can think of a couple of pairs of friends who seem to have got smugger as they’ve got older. Or what you might call, more certain, more opinionated, with the parallel assumption that their opinions were the ‘correct’ ones. Or is it just me becoming less tolerant? Surely not.

I’m pretty sure they don’t read this retirement blog so little danger of them taking offence but then again if they did and they did, it would be one way of ending, what in some ways has become in both cases, quite tedious relationships.

True, we’ve also, since retiring, re-established relationships with two sets of friends who we hadn’t seen in many a long while and that’s been good. But against this we met a couple in the park with whom we had been good friends a few (quite a few) years ago. She was in a wheelchair and looked a bit fragile although definitely compos mentis but he, who was pushing her around, clearly had no idea who we were and seemed to regard us some kind of threat / imposition, about to mug them. We explained who we were and he seemed to believe us but two weeks later he treated us with exactly the same suspicion. So not all revived relationships have a happy ending.

So on this friendship thing, a glass half full or half empty. Let’s break the habits of a life time and regard this as a half full situation. Who knows, as we get more decrepit, we might actually need friends old or new.

Before I get too giddy on the positives let me say that there is no doubt that, as I get older, I have less and less interest in developing new friendships or even in keeping a few of the existing ones (as above). Even the ex-cricketers dining group that has been in existence for many years has lost its interest for me. I didn’t attend the last one and that’s never happened before. As it was taking place we sat at home friendless and I asked myself, did I regret my decision not to go, and the answer was … No.

So what to make of it all? At one level it’s simple, as at one level most things in life are. If, as is undoubtedly the case, I have less time left on the planet why would I choose to spend it in the company of people who irritate me even if they were once friends. It’s not as if they need my friendship so it can’t be marked down as a charitable act.

As for making new friends, well I really can’t see the point from our side of things. That just leaves the few friends who we have kept through the years and who manage that happy compromise as friends, a) doing interesting things that we like to hear about and b) appearing to be genuinely interested in what we are doing and willing to ask a few questions about us and appearing to be fascinated by our answers. All this, of course, based on what ‘appears’ to be.

I’ll leave this retirement blog on a positive note with a part of the lyrics from a Guy Clarke (who I’m a big fan of) song appropriately enough entitled Old Friends. And then I’ll stop before I get maudlin.

Old friends they shine like diamonds

Old friends you can always call

Old friends, Lord you can’t buy ‘em

You know it’s old friends after all