Saturday, March 29, 2008

The Gift of Friendship

Before my dad and mum died I had the opportunity to tell them how much I loved them. I think that was hugely important. You should, right now, tell people that you love them if that’s the case, don’t wait until it’s too late. The subject of this essay, I hope has many years left to live. But this is a brief love letter to a friend called Stevie. Although we’re straight, it doesn’t stop me loving this special guy.

I have this friend called Stevie. He has a great gift. His is the Gift of Friendship, and it is a rare and wonderful gift we could all use some more of. Stevie makes people happy just being himself. He has a smile and a greeting for everyone. He has his own problems, but rarely talks about them; in fact he doesn’t unless you ask.

Stevie only wants to share himself and his poetry with the world, and there are far worse things in life than this gentle man and his gift with words. Stevie is truly a gentleman, a man who wants everyone else to be happy and friendly.

Stevie is a friend to everyone he meets. He knows and is known by everyone from the richest to the poorest of the world, from the bus boys in restaurants, to the most powerful men and women. He treats you the same if you are the biggest movie star or the guy who fetches your drinks. It is the most unusual thing to watch billionaires treasuring their time with this unique man. Some of them have no idea that this guy can give them nothing more than his time and his poetry, and they don’t know how to react to him and his happy smile.

A great many people in the sixties called themselves Hippies because they took a lot of dope and made peace signs every place they could. Stevie didn’t just make the noises of peace; he has lived his whole life that way. I don’t want you to think I am trying to make a saint out of Stevie, in fact I don’t know if you can have a Jewish saint, but if the qualification for sainthood is to live a good life making as many people happy as possible, then Stevie is getting near to being Saint Stevie. But I do wish there were more people like Stevie, who want to see the good in this world.

Stevie is not perfect; he comes with the same waft and weave we all have built into our DNA code but in him the faults are far outweighed by the good stuff. I love his poetry and lyrics, his passion and his love for others. I wish you all could have a friend like Stevie in your life. The world would be a better place. Thanks Stephen J. Kalinich, for being my friend.