It seems like I’ve known Wally (Walter) Dykema my whole life. We grew up not far from each other and went to the same schools. Because our birthdays are so close, we were usually in the same classes, had the same teachers, the same circle of friends. In junior high they used to tease us – but in junior high they tease everybody, don’t they? I remember our eighth grade French class. The teacher introduced the expression Bien dans sa peau and one of the meaner kids shouted that Wally and I would be comfortable in the same skin. It got a laugh and that hurt at the time but in retrospect, he was probably right. We really are two peas in a pod.
So that’s my friend Wally and as I said, we were chatting the other day and, silly me, I took him up on getting together for a beer some day this week.
I can’t have a beer with Wally because my wife is chaperoning a gaggle of students in France for three weeks and she’s not going to drink any alcohol. Like shaving your own head when your “significant other” goes through chemo, I’m tea-totalling for the three weeks as kind of a moral support thingy.
So Wally and I changed plans and we’re going to have coffee tomorrow morning – probably some obscene cinnamon bun or chocolate-covered Bismarck to go with it. One of the things I’ve always liked about Wally is that he has interesting ideas and sometimes comes up with interesting ways of expressing them. If he’s true to form, I’ll pass along whatever pithy comments he makes (and no, I don’t have a lisp).
Again, sorry for not introducing him to you earlier.