When Old Friends Start Speaking Russian

I bade farewell to some old friends last week. Like any who spend a lot of time together, relationships were sometimes strained. But they usually ended on a profitable note. Still, years of uninvolvement spawned strangers who, quite honestly, have no continuing need of one another. It was time to send them packing... so I did.

Some might think me unfeeling, but I've put off for years what I knew would eventually become inevitable. Still, turning loose is hard; they were my salvation in many difficult circumstances.

As times change, so do the needs of our lives. My old friends were demanding and harsh, forcing me to be a certain way, compelling me to rigorously embrace their very narrow tenets. But I've gradually drifted into different waters where I've found new, warmer friends.

With divergent challenges and interests, I simply couldn't live up to their old requirements any longer. Their tiring habits of wanting to insert themselves into situations where they were really misfits cut too deeply across the grain.

Some might say I should never have taken them on... only to abandon them in later years. Perhaps they're right. But we were once compatible, and benefits flowed both ways.

Perhaps you've already guessed. These friends aren't people; they're books.

They are textbooks whose names now have a distant feel, somewhat like cousins you've only met a time or two. Calculus. Engineering physics. Fluid mechanics. Process control systems. Once the indispensable, precision tools of my trade, they've become rusty and useless.

Before plopping them into the Salvation Army box, I carefully opened each one to assure myself I was doing the right thing. What I saw astounded me. There were scads of scribblings in a familiar scrawl--notes in my own handwriting. But understanding was quite a different matter. I might as well have been trying to read Russian. Nothing made sense.

But the name of Bob Harp in the front cover of my physics book ignited a flame of recognition. As a freshman, Bob had once borrowed the book. As I recall, he would come over just before the tests to get some "expert advice" from a senior--as if I really had the answers!

Though an engineering degree may have seemed a distant dream to Bob in 1968, he is now a successful engineering consultant. After seeing his name, I called him on the phone and thoroughly enjoyed a few minutes of "catching up."

I have no hopes of restored relationships with my old books; the years have taken too great a toll. But friendships with people can be different, and with proper maintenance, they can survive. We never know when we might need each other.

Thank you, Bob Harp, for speaking to me from that dusty book. It may be gone, but our relationship isn't. And you didn't make me read Russian to refresh it, either!

Copyright 2000 James McAlister

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