Walter

Today is my closest and oldest friend Walter's birthday. He's 64.

We have known each other for almost half a century.

I called him today to wish him well. Even though he lives now with his husband in New England, we stay in close touch. We email each other nearly every day. We talk on the phone frequently.

In fact, today was the second day in a row that I called Walter.

Yesterday's call was also to wish him a happy birthday.

I've been off by a day in calling Walter to wish him well for decades. But not by design.

There is a history.

I was born on September 11. I have known for many, many years that Walter was born a week or so after I was (albeit in a different year). So, I inevitably reasoned each year, Walter must have been born on September 18.

Not so. He was actually born a week and one more day after my birthday. This thing about me wishing him well a day early got to be funny, but I was always secretly embarrassed.

Last year, I decided to end this egregious series of errors once and for all. I got tired of excusing my day-early call by saying "I just wanted to be the first to wish you ...." Besides, he wasn't buying it.

So I took a sticky note, wrote "Walter's birthday is 9/19" on it, and push-pinned it next to my computer screen. For a year now, I've been seeing that note every time I sit down at the computer.

But it didn't work. Not because I don't now know -- for certain -- what day Walter was born on. But because I actually believed that yesterday was the 19th. As I told Walter, once you're retired, the calendar is not top-of-mind.

As usual, he laughed heartily yesterday and forgave me. Maybe next year I'll get it right.

I don't see Walter as much as I would like. I am particularly enamored of the image above, which I made in Washington two years ago. We had taken to meeting up in D.C. for the Memorial Day weekend. The conversations always picked up just as though we had seen each other last week rather than last year.

I took the picture above on the way to meet Walter for lunch, I think -- or maybe it was for breakfast. I spotted him through the window of the restaurant before he saw me. I liked the composition, and I liked his pensive look. I fired off a couple of shots, one of which -- glory be! -- looked even better than I thought it would. I treasure this image of my friend.

It's true what they say: Old friends are the best. Walter already knows everything there is to know about me, and we can talk in a kind of verbal shorthand. There's no need for either of us to explain the backstory. We've either lived through it together or discussed it in excruciating detail.

So happy birthday, Walter, on today, Wednesday, September 19th.

I'd sing "Happy Birthday" to you, but I know you hate that as much as I do.