The Beauty of Long Conversations

Almost every morning two old men have coffee together in the cafe I visit. One of them is the talker, the other the listener, the perfect audience. Both men dress very well— suits and ties, although it is plain by their ages that both are retirees. I have the impression they are dressing for each other. They like to look sharp in each other’s eyes. Now and then during the week I also see them together walking around the neighborhood, chatting, looking in store windows, enjoying the day’s hustle and bustle as well as their friend’s company. Sometimes I wonder if either of them is married or has children. If so, what do the wives think of their husbands’ buddy? Are they happy to have the men out of the house; out from under their feet for a while? Or are they jealous because they know how important this friendship is to their spouse? I like to imagine these men have been pals for years, perhaps decades. That they have been there all along for each other’s history and perhaps played a significant role in it. Yet there is the equally nice thought that this friendship evolved late— that these guys met for the first time in their sixties or seventies and lo and behold, found their absolute best friend ever in the last part of their lives.