Cronies

Have you ever noticed how some men seem to easily pick up Cronies as they wander through life? My husband is one of those. Everywhere he goes he seems to find some random person in whom he sees sparks of Having Something In Common and off they go, on a wild conversation that defies social convention and leaves them both with eyes twinkling and a lift in their step. They never get to any of the niceties of meeting and introductions. Not necessary. There is just some instant recognition of commonality that makes them old Cronies.

We were hiking in Pt Reyes in California once when we ran across a previously unknown Crony. Before I could catch my breath from an uphill climb Mark had spotted some other middle-aged hiker sitting on a stump in the woods and they were off and running-at-the-mouth about whether Peter Jackson’s interpretation of the Lord of the Rings should have been more faithful to the books – specifically as far as some minute point about Frodo’s responsibility to the fellowship was concerned. Huh? I had a lot of time to catch my breath before we finally broke away – lifelong friends, but probably never to see each other again.

There was another time when it was a t-shirt – from South Park, I’m embarrassed to admit – that was the spark that got the conversation going. And another when his walking stick triggered a lengthy discussion about survival gear. He somehow finds just the right person with whom to launch into an elaborate discussion about powder loads for bullets, about lawn tractors, about a graphic novel series (Lone Wolf and Cub, of all things) and it’s meaning in today’s corporate world…

I’m amazed. But by now I shouldn’t be. My father was one of those men. I think my brother is too. Are they all Cronies?