More from Brian Y

My good friend Brian Y is one hell of a cyclist. He rides a bike that is so feather light the Tour De France doesn't allow it without additional weight added to the bike. Rumor has it they fill up riders of this bike with fois gras, cheese and crusty bread before each stage of the Tour. Not really, but it sounds good, no? Below is a continuation of my conversation with Brian.

ThingsFogel: Tell a story about someone you once called your
"best" friend but haven't talked to in years.

Brian Y: My best friend in high school was named Hadley. He and
I were inseparable and as adults we rarely saw one another or spoke on the phone. He chose the path of medicine and high-wire medicine at that: he became an ER technician for the sheer drama of it. I distinctly recall his joy at describing one night in a Louisville ER during which he massaged a gun victim's heart back to beating mode. His idea of medicine is one fuelled by testosterone and diatribes worthy of locker rooms and pissing contests between preadolescent boys. Yes, of course, I find this ridiculous but also somewhat endearing b/c I think it all shlock. I should add here that I chose the path of a working artist.

The last time I spoke with Hadley was perhaps 16 months ago while I was going through a particularly heart-wrenching divorce. I'm not entirely sure how it happened in the course of the phone conversation, but Hadley began speaking about the high cost of malpractice insurance and how difficult it was making his life and career. He said he envied my being an artist where I could just be "creative" all day without a care in the world. Again, I was going through a divorce, half of
my belongs were surrounding me in boxes preparing for a move to a much smaller apartment and I was just emerging from several months of unemployment in a town where I felt completely alienated.

I won't speak with him again.