Good-Bye, Old Friend

This past week I said good-bye to an old friend.

Now, most of my friends have two legs, names like Jack, Gary or Joe and the common decency to always be a bit balder than me. However, a few have four legs and sit when I say, "Sit" and roll over when I say, "Rollover". I feel it is good to have variety in my friendships.

Occasionally I have had friendships with inanimate objects. This is not unusual for men. We can become attached to things. Some men have special friendships with a few of their tools. I have known one or two men that had a "thing" for certain chairs. Most of these chairs were recliners that
looked like they had been specially broken in for the individual man's body shape. Kind of like good cowboy boots, the chairs may not have looked like much, but they fit just right.

As an aside, let me say that it is probably wrong for men to develop friendships with their computers... even if it is a laptop that has accompanied them on more trips than they can remember. Computers are like girl friends in the 10th grade. They often dump you after the spring dance.

The old friend that I said good-bye to this week was a Sony shortwave radio that I purchased in La Paz, Bolivia in March of 1990. I was recovering from a bad bout with typhoid fever and Susan helped me into the store where I bought this little beauty.

It had nine bands, good reception and I could fit it into my front pocket. I took it with me everywhere. When I was out in the country in Bolivia, I would listen to it late at night to get the most recent news. Traveling into Communist countries, I could still hear the U.S. football scores if I held the antenna just right.

As you know, occasionally I find myself in countries with a certain amount of civil disorder. It was always helpful to turn that radio on and find the BBC. You could count on them to have the real news about what was happening. There was something comforting about hearing those words, "This is London."

This week I gave my old friend (now somewhat worn and speckled with paint) to Manfred and Silvia as they left for Central Asia. When Manfred took it in his hands, he knew that this little black box represented a link back home. With it he will be able to listen to the World Cup in Spanish... the only language in which you should listen to soccer games. He will be able to hear the news. He may even pick up HCJB from Quito, Ecuador. It will be important for him to occasionally hear a Bible message in his mother tongue.

Even though I listen to less shortwave at this point in life, I already miss that radio and all that it represented. However, truth be told, I miss Manfred even more. I hope that he can feel a bit closer to me and home when he turns it on late and night and tries to find Latin America on its dial. I know that I feel a little closer to him knowing that he is with my old friend.