And yes, those of you of a certain age may recognize the name and the appearance as THE Andrew McCarthy, an actor who is probably most well known for his work on popular 1980s movies such as St. Elmo's Fire, Pretty in Pink, and Weekend at Bernie's. It was an interesting talk. As you might surmise, the book is about male friendships. and McCarthy has stated that it was kicked-off by his then-21-year-old son asking him if he had any friends (his son didn't think that he did). Andrew responded that, yes, he did have friends, but then realized he hadn't seen some of them in years, or even decades.
So off he went, driving 10,000-plus miles across the country to meet up with old friends. He also stopped at various places along the way -- motels, diners, etc. -- and ended up talking with guys who were friends with one another. During his book talk, Andrew mentioned two men who he met that were seated together. They were both older gentlemen, retired police officers, with wives, who said how they'd gotten to the point where they felt comfortable telling each other, "I love you." This finally seemed natural to them, given the depth and length of their friendship. They also joked that they were still working their way up to a kiss goodnight. Andrew met another set of friends and asked them what they thought their life would be like if the other wasn't in it. They said they couldn't imagine that. Several of the male friends Andrew talked with said it was the first time they'd actually really thought about their friendships.
Andrew McCarthy's book has been well-reviewed, and no doubt that is in part due to the subject matter being an important topic. There are a plethora of articles out there about the issues surrounding male friendships, some of which can be found here, here, here and here. It's something I've often contemplated. My friend circle is small. It's something I've always lamented, but the reasons have changed over the years. For a long time (decades) it was because, I dunno, it just seemed like other people had lots of friends, and I felt inadequate for not having that many. There were certain periods of life where I had none at all. Now that I'm older, it's not so much that I'm comparing myself to others, but that my circle of people important to me is getting smaller. Both my parents are gone, and I'm not super close to my family. I have Ashley, but then having just one person I know I can rely on is, at times, terrifying.
I always admired my mom for many reasons, one of them being that she had a cadre of lifelong friends. Some she knew from her hometown, but many of her friendships were forged during college. Over the years, she would have regular reunions with them, talk with them on the phone, celebrate their birthdays, drive (or fly) to visit them, send cards and e-mails, etc., you get the picture. They were strong, active, lifelong friendships. I don't know if that's more of a woman thing, or just a 'my mom' thing, but I suspect a lot of it's the former. This is totally anecdotal, but I've always thought that women seem to be more free and open to be close with one another. In a platonic way, of course. They physically embrace each other more. They refer to their platonic female friends as "girlfriend." And they probably don't wait a lifetime before feeling comfortable telling their female friends "I love you."
Men, on the other hand, seem to be wound pretty tight. Some men hug each other hello or goodbye, but I'd love to do a study to learn the percentage. I suspect it's fairly low. So, physical contact is often rare or non-existent for a lot of guy friends. Many of them probably don't say "I love you" to each other very often, if at all. And can you imagine guys doing what women do -- calling their male friends "boyfriend?" Like, if you hear a guy refer to another guy as his boyfriend then, at least in our society, that almost always means a romantic relationship, not a platonic one. Men do not frequently share their feelings with one another. Not deep, emotional ones, anyway. Guys are likely to share their opinions about politics and sports with one another, but something emotional and vulnerable? Nope. Not as a general rule. It's interesting that the emotions men do feel comfortable sharing with one another are often the opinionated, aggressive ones.
During his book talk, Andrew McCarthy brought up something I've read before somewhere, which is that women's friendships are often face-to-face, while men's friendships generally tend to be more side-by-side. That scans. It just seems more comfortable for guys to sidle up to a bar next to each other, drink some beers, and talk about the current state or outlook of various sports teams, or the kinds of political machinations that are pissing them off, or maybe talk about work stuff. Maybe family dynamics will pop up, but nothing too too deep. And, as McCarthy's book is partly about, a lot of male friends go years or decades without physically seeing each other. There are sometimes legitimate reasons for that, but then there also are -- let's be honest -- excuses-that-we-think-of-as reasons.
I would argue that the aforementioned traits of so-called male bonding aren't really friendships at all. I realize, just based on discourse I've had with people over the years, that I'm in the minority on that. I was once at a celebration of life for someone. His closest friends spoke, and some of them laughed about how sometimes they wouldn't respond to each other's texts for days, or maybe even weeks, but that it was okay. No one was upset. I've also seen people share that meme online (maybe you've seen it, too?) about how true friends can go months (or, in some of the memes, an indeterminate amount of time) without speaking and then pick up where they left off without losing a beat. No harm, no foul. Y'all, I'm here to tell you -- they ain't friends. At least, not how I would view friendship.
It's interesting... I've never really sat down and defined friendship (as I see it), but why not give it a go now? There are a lot of ways it could be defined, but I'm going to focus on frequency, since that was the springboard for McCarthy's book. Some of how this can be determined is by proximity. If the friends live in the same community (or very close by), then they should be hanging out several times a year. I could get more granular than that, but let's leave it at "several times a year." If the friends live in different communities, but they are within a comfortable driving distance, then I'm going to again use the nebulous "several" for how often they should see each other per year. Obviously, it will be less than those who live in the same town, but still.. a good, consistent effort should be made to get together. Really long driving distances, or needing to board a plane in order to visit, is of course different. Multiple times a year may be out of the question, but.. once a year? Maybe? Some of that depends on the individual's ability to afford to travel.
But, Matt, I hear you say, people are busy, they have lives. Family, work, obligations. A lot of folks just aren't able to find the time to meet up with their friends, even if they really want to. My response to that is, first -- everybody's busy. While some people are busier than others, it can be pretty safely said that we all have lives and things going on in those lives. Yet think of all the recreational stuff most of us find time to do with our families (spouses, kids, parents, in-laws, etc). If something -- or someone -- is important enough, you'll make the time to be with them. So let's not engage in the Busy Olympics. We're all participants, but it's not a competition.
Second, if our lives are so consumed with our spouses, and taking our kids to band practice, or going to our favorite music concerts, or working at our jobs, or whatever other excuses reasons we want to put out there, then fine. But we need to be honest with ourselves and come to admit that friendships just aren't that important. As an example, let's pick a name at random -- Adam. Let's say he lives a state or two away. Maybe isn't a friend anymore. He's someone we used to know, maybe back in college, maybe from a different job. And yeah, we were close once - best buddies even. But then one of us moved, and we got "busy" with our lives and, well, nothing dramatic or detrimental happened, but we haven't seen each other in years. Perhaps decades. No harm no foul, right? So, we're still cool with Adam, in some vague, distant sense, but we're no longer really friends.
People often bristle when I frame things that way. They will, interestingly enough, big up the importance of their friendships and then, in the same breath, strongly defend how they don't need to see their friends very often (like, sometimes we're talking years) in order for them to still be considered friends. It's almost a sort of proud absenteeism. It seems like, in our society, we pay a lot of lip service to the importance of friendships, but when it comes to reality, we can't be bothered. And we almost wear this as a badge of honor. I'm hard put to think of other areas of life where making less time for someone is considered a strength?
Imagine you're in a romantic relationship, and you never tell your spouse/significant other that you love them. Or let's say that you're aware that your spouse/significant other really enjoys going to a classical music concert, and there have been several performances over the course of many years, but you've never once made the effort to buy tickets for the two of you to go. Here's a classic example: let's say you have a kid, and they're involved with extracurricular sports. They have games you can go to, but you're too busy with work to attend. You hear a lot of stories like that, where there's an absentee parent and the child feels unloved or underappreciated. And, with the aforementioned spouse/significant other scenarios, no one who has a view of healthy relationships would think that those scenarios are okay.
But somehow with friendships, that whole thing has been inverted to where less is better. Not investing time and effort into a friendship is actually a sign of its strength? That's some Orwellian-level stuff that a lot of people have bought into. At least when it comes to male friendships.
Our modern technology has, of course, changed the game in a way. Friends can Skype Zoom call with one another, particularly if they live far apart. Then there's the old-fashioned phone call. A vastly more common, though (I would argue) much less personal, mode of communication is text messaging. I put things like social media messenger apps, WhatsApp, Snapchat, and Telegram under that umbrella. Perhaps far more rare are handwritten letters. Does anyone do those anymore? I'm not necessarily talking about 'Thank You' cards, but actual 'Here's what's been going on with my life - How about yours?' letters. Old fashioned, I know. But, one could argue, a lot more personal.
During his book talk, Andrew McCarthy mentioned that one of the friends he traveled to see was reluctant to meet up. Turns out he'd become a recluse/hoarder, and it sounded like there was some embarrassment and anxiety involved on the friend's part. Andrew still met up with him, and then stayed in contact with the friend as he traversed the country by car on his way to reconnect with others. Andrew described his friend as his sort of co-pilot in spirit.
Of course this brings up a potential spanner in the works when it comes to making an effort to stay in contact and meet up with friends: maybe the friends have some sort of medical or psychological issue going on? Or perhaps they have a spouse or child who is going through stuff, and it's difficult to get away? That is always a legitimate reason though, in totality, it isn't the root cause of what McCarthy and so many others are exploring here. Every friend isn't always going through something that serious. At certain times? Yes. But not always. So it doesn't really explain the across-the-board breakdown in (particularly) male friendships.
Then there's what I call the Mutual Effort factor. One of the example scenarios I brought up earlier was where a spouse/significant other really enjoys going to a classical music concert, and there have been several performances over the course of many years, but you've never once made the effort to buy tickets for the two of you to go. One could ask, well, why doesn't the spouse/significant other take charge and purchase their own tickets to go? I was thinking along those lines about the springboard for McCarthy's book (how he realized he hadn't seen his friends in years or decades). I could be inferring incorrectly, but I detected a hint of guilt there, a self-admonishment maybe? But the Mutual Effort factor takes note of how friendships are two-way streets, and it doesn't sound like his friends had done much in the way of coming to see him. Once I read the book I'll know more about that, but it's a pretty common thing overall.
So, where does this leave us? I know where it leaves us in theory, but am not so sure about in practice.
As I see it, we need to do one of two things:
1. Put more effort into our friendships (especially male friendships). Walk the walk, as it were. If these people truly hold a place of importance to you, then stop with the proud absenteeism and actually show them that they mean something to your life. During the book talk Q&A, someone in the audience asked Andrew what he'd found was the most important thing in all this. His answer (and he admitted it was cliche) was to just show up. He said that showing up was 90% of it. Being there for the people who supposedly mean something to you.
or
2. Stop with all of the performative friendship praise. If we're not feeling the first option, if we can't muster enough determination to make our friends a real part of our lives, then at least we can stop pretending how important our friendships are to us. We can quit taking pride in doing as little as possible for our friendships, and somehow twisting that into showing how strong our bonds are. Nowhere else is that a thing.
I mentioned earlier that men are wound pretty tight. And I think a lot of that can be traced back to our societal norms. Men are supposed to be stoic. They are often looked to as (or expected to be) leaders. Sometimes they are the sole income provider of a household. They often have many obligations: work, a romantic life, raising children, ageing parents, etc. Having to then be more present for their friends can seem like adding another log to the stress fire. And, men aren't supposed to show emotion. Not nice emotions, anyway. Interestingly, anger and arrogance and other such negative emotions are often seen as okay, but vulnerability, love, expressing their (non-angry) feelings? That's some sappy shit, bro. Don't do that, or else people will think you're gay.
You can see how that isn't healthy. It's probably at least one reason why men are more prone to stress-related health concerns. It affects their mood, their general well-being, their relationships with their spouses/significant others, and their kids. Perhaps even their work life. I am not noting anything that countless others haven't already done by stating that human beings are social creatures. We're also full of thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams, desires, and things that both bring us joy and scare us. Being able to freely express those things is, at least with men, often seen as weakness or (God forbid) being homosexual. So, a lot of men keep things stuffed down. And then they engage in the mental gymnastics of internally understanding how much their friends mean to them, but then not visiting with them. Or, if they do visit with their friends, not really being real and open with them about how their lives are going.
Instead it's just playing golf or having a beer together. For some men, that's enough, and perhaps everyone is wrong, and the studies are flawed, and there's no need to talk about our feelings or feel comfortable with each other. Let's go get a beer bro, and talk about sports.
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