Thoughts from an Italian Restaurant

I had dinner last night with a few childhood friends - one I've know since my teenage years at camp (in from the States with her husband) and two others who go all the way back to grade school.

My friend from camp (let's call her "Jennifer"), her husband, and their two sons had spent most of the week in the area and told us all about their adventures: CN Tower, Grey Cup Game, Leafs game, Hockey Hall of Fame, a well-appointed Airbnb in Liberty Village, long walks downtown, great restaurants, sports bars, and so on.

I remarked at some point how great this "Toronto" of which she spoke sounded: "I really should visit some time".

Funny how we can get so used to being in a place that we lose sight of how great that place is. I take a commuter train in from the suburbs every day, I work in the building that sits on top of the Hockey Hall of Fame, the CN Tower is on full display from my office window, and I have hundreds of world class restaurants big and small, expensive and not, a short walk from my building. But I don't even notice that stuff anymore and I choose the food court every day because it's fast and easy.

Nothing new in any of this: I'm not the only one who loses sight of the city around them and needs to be reminded how great it is by people who visit from elsewhere; and I'm certainly not the first person to call it out.

But David's posts are never really about what they seem to be about. As someone once told me, David's posts are like an onion (I think they meant that after you read them, you can't get the smell out of your fingers for the rest of the day - or something like that).

The real insight that struck me this morning as I took the train in to work is that lifelong friends are like the city you live in. You get so used to them, that it's easy to lose sight of how amazing they are and how vital your relationship with them is. (Same goes for family, of course, but I didn't have dinner with family last night - this is about friends).

It takes American visitors to open my eyes (again) to the city around me. And it takes a far too infrequent get-together with people I've known most of my life to remind me of the cherished place they have in my heart. (And even then, I don't realize it until the next morning).

Sometimes it's months (and it's occasionally been years) between times that we're together, but every time it's like the needle on the record player slipping back into the groove over which it's been hovering since I last heard the music, and the melody continues like it had never been interrupted.

And to continue the sappy analogy, the music that's playing isn't them...it's us. It's me.

Signing off now before I ruin your breakfast. Speaking of which, I have to run down to the food court and grab something.

...David