Ah! Al!

I'm watching the American Film Institute tribute to Al Pacino. Lordie, I love him. He's both a terrific actor and a charismatic movie star. It's a powerful combo platter, and I'm grateful to him for all those hours of pleasure in the dark. (Yeah, I know how dirty that sounds but I'm leaving it as is. Consider it a tribute to the crush I had on Al as Serpico. You could dive into those deep brown eyes!)

The Godfather saga, Frankie & Johnnie, Donnie Brasco, Dog Day Afternoon, The Devil's Advocate, And Justice for All ... All good movies made even more memorable by Al's magnetic presence.

The only one I don't get, frankly, is Scarface. Tony Montana a pathetic loser who is too stupid to see that there's only one way his story could end. Al's performance is so far over the top I couldn't possibly care about this thug and I found myself getting bored. And yet I know men who can recite lines to this movie as if it was Caddy Shack or Top Gun. I see kids wearing Tony Montana t-shirts and snapping up posters. People, this man was an unredeemable idiot!

I think Scarface might be like The Three Stooges ("a guy thing").

I accept no substitutes

My different friends play different roles in this little reality show I call a life. And I find they are most definitely NOT interchangeable.

My oldest friend, the one I've known since Kindergarten, is my touchstone. She knows my history, my secrets, and how I got here. She went through a bad patch recently but is emerging from it with both her genial mood and awesome sense of humor restored. But she's not the same as my best friend.

There's the man I've referred to on this blog as John. We've known one another a quarter of a century and in some ways, he raised me. His sensitivity to, and genuine interest in, others makes him the soul of tolerance. He also REALLY ratcheted up my party threshold over the years. But he's not the same as my best friend.

My best friend trusts me and shares with me. He encourages me to do the same with him. He sees me as I am and accepts me. When he is busy and unhappy and distracted like he's been lately, I miss him. HIM. If I simply wanted company, I'd be completely content spending time with my oldest friend or John. But as wonderful as they are, they aren't my best friend. And sometimes, no one else will do.