That Kid Across the Street

I was lucky enough to meet that kid in the red shirt at age 8. He was that "neighbor boy across the street", as a parent would like to say. My parents especially liked to say that because, as luck would have it, he was a great "neighbor boy across the street." Good parents. Good home life. Good student.

474-2767. I called that number a million times: Wanna ride bikes; run trains; go swimming at Sackett's? Outside of a safe and caring home, nothing is better for a kid than to grow up with a really good friend. Someone who's different but shares the same interests. Someone who's different but shares the same life goals. Someone who's different but willing to go as far, do as much, and disagree when needed.

Now he's doctor Dan and I'm doctor Schmidt and we haven't seen each other for probably 2 or 3 years. But I couldn't forget him if I never saw him again. I expect I will see him again, though. And hopefully soon. Somehow, he is now, just like back then, a best friend.

Happy Birthday Danny Freeman. Let's hop the fence for a late night swim.