My best mate since 4th grade and I live
3,689 miles and five time zones apart
and thus we need a recipe for
festive continuity.
We sacked video calls long ago,
too hard to navigate across families.
So we send each other podcasts
recorded for an audience of one:
Click the voice note app,
pour out snark — and heart —
over competing background noises of
street traffic or children or treadmills.
Add in a dash of salty asides,
a dose of witty insights and an
obligatory testimonial to a spouse’s
latest questionable take on x / y / zed.
Sprinkle in a
note of concern regarding our
boisterous, aging parents;
Add antics of sensational relatives.
Fortify with prompt engineering hacks
non-fiction book suggestions
tapas menu planning ideas
and hints on publishing articles.
Stir in aspirational itineraries
for upcoming travel and grandeur,
new entrepreneurial ventures
and intended next big chapters.
Fold in praise — gas up the other’s
most recently mentioned goals
and amplify them 'til doubled in size;
push them to think even bigger.
Roll in gently those vulnerable truths
regarding parenting, that ever-on
role of raising humans; drop in a
wry word on a kid’s freshest capers.
With eye-rolling quips, massage in
deliciously dramatic details of the
chores that temporarily, circumstantially
preclude near-term fame and fortune.
Before it turns too dark, take off with
a bittersweet smile and a flourish:
Tune into to my next podcast
in which I figure out my life!
This is how we bake friendship;
with unscripted and sparklingly
sardonic normalcy set amidst the
backdrop of an uncanny world.
