I find myself in an awkward situation this morning. I’m writing a book currently that is based on friendships and what friends mean to us in life. I haven’t mentioned this to anyone except those within my tight family circle. I just came up with the idea a few days ago. It will be wrapped around several stories I’ve previously had on The Angora Chronicles and a few other thought’s that I have on the subject.

Enough of this. Now on to my dilemma. I have a friend that would be very much a part of the book, because he is one of my closest friends left living. He and I butt heads about politics almost every time we get together, which is often. We know each other on this subject.

My friend has circumstances that have befallen on him that leaves him with few resources and not in the best of health. As a result I try to help him financially so that he doesn’t fall through the famous doughnut hole of our sometimes crappy healthcare system. With me in retirement that has become harder to do by the month. By meeting up for lunches and breakfast and taking him along on trips that I often take, it gives him lots of enjoyment that he wouldn’t otherwise have.

Don’t get me wrong, there was a benefit to me. I enjoyed the companionship. Before his eyesight prevented it, he shared in the driving. Now his driving scares the crap out of me. And there is the part of just having someone to talk to and BS about things with.

When the NYC verdict was handed down the other day, while the counts were still being read, it took a little while to go through all 34 of them, my phone rang. It was my friend, seeming gleeful over what was happening. My recall was he said something like “Ol Trump is getting his ass handed to him”. Then he went on to say how he would be praying for me, which sounded condescending at best and downright insulting at worst.

The conversation degraded to a few F-You’s and the like with much colorful language mixed in, then I hit the off button on the phone. My first thought was, this is not how friends treat each other. Of course I really thought, this is not how I should be treated. I vowed to myself to let that that be an end to our 60 year friendship. “Who needs this crap”.

During the course of that Manhattan verdict being read and my conflab with my now ex-buddy, I felt something go awry in my mouth. I discovered I broken a crown. A front tooth crown. Not in the traditional way, but the back of one of my top front teeth had lost a big chunk of the porcelain, from the bottom of the crown, sloping upward about a quarter of a inch. On the back side, so it wasn’t visible. But the result was an extremely sharp knife blade like feature that eventually lacerated the tip of my tongue.

Lacerated my tongue may be a bit overblown, but it did have all the earmarks of a troubling situation that had to be remedied. Nothing to do but drive six hours to the dentist and get them to make me a new crown to replace the fractured one.

Being impetuous by nature, within a few minutes my bags were packed and I was headed south down US 281 toward Edinburg, Texas. What better time to make the drive than now! I had plenty of news to absorb during the trip.

I have found a hotel in Edinburg that is clean and cheap and seems relatively safe. Cheap at least by today’s standards. Cheap if a $110 dollars plus tax for 6 hours bed time is somehow considered economizing. Safe maybe as anyone could be staying almost a stones throw from the Texas Border in today’s America. But it’s new and no raggedy carpet so it seems clean and doesn’t have the smell of many of the older establishments.

I rolled in and was in my room by midnight or shortly thereafter.

I was up and headed out the door, refreshed and ready to tackle the day by 6:30 AM the following morning. I grabbed a good wholesome breakfast at Cracker Barrel and found my way to Progresso Nuevo, arriving there shortly after 8:30.

Things don’t get rocking and rolling in Mexico very early so not that many crowds yet, so within a few minutes, I was in the back sitting in the dentist chair. They immediately saw my problem and the dentist and a couple of her cohorts assembled and came back to read me the verdict. I had already told her that whatever happened we needed to look at expediting the production of a new crown. She assured me that would be possible.

As cheap as dental work is in Mexico, she said it would be $400 to replace the crown. “Wait Wait Wait, $400 for a single crown replacement?” She explained that things have gone up since they originally made all my top set of crowns and $400 is now the going price.

She left the area for a few minutes and returned with one of the male, maybe manager type people. Most of the dental workers there are female, with a few male dentists but 100% of the front desk staff and the ones that seem to be calling the shots are male. When this fellow returned with the dentist he said there had been a mistake. My front crowns were not porcelain, instead made from zirconium. For that the price is actually $800.

I raised up and started removing my bib like affair that was lashed around my neck. I said “what do I owe you for this exam, and I’ll find another dentist”.

There are somewhere around 100 dentists in that one little sleepy village I’m told. So I was confident that someone would be willing to make a deal.

He said “wait a minute” and they huddled and conferred. They came back and told me that there was a relatively small piece missing from the crown and if I would rather, it could be dressed down and polished to remove the sharp edge, yet still be plenty of crown left so that it could be serviceable but some time in the future.

I settled back in my seat and the dentist went to work. Five to ten minutes later I was at the front desk settling my bill with a mouth that felt just fine. I paid the $25 exam fee and headed out of Mexico.

Now I had a 6 or 7 hour trip ahead of me, plenty of time to reflect on everything that had happened the day before. I was feeling like the Trump situation would be alright in the end, with the appeals process yet to go. Several appeals could happen.

But the loss of a six decades long friendship may not be as likely. I was ready to end it all. “Who needs that”? This guy that I’ve gone over and beyond with many times had betrayed me. He really has done very little for me. Except been my friend.

I had made it a couple of hours up the road when my phone rang. It was my friend, well my ex-friend. “What you doing?” he asked.

“I’m down between Corpus Christi and San Antonio, returning from a trip to Mexico”. I was beside myself to let him know I was on a trip and he wasn’t.

“Why didn’t you take me?” he said. That gave me the chance to let him have it. I explained to him that there would be no more trips for him to go with me to Mexico. “I’m done with you”. Then things really regenerated to a lot of hollering and name calling. I explained to him how ungrateful he was for our friendship.

He hollered back a bunch. Said what he felt like he needed to. We talked for what was almost an hour. By that time we knew how each other really felt. All that exchange of words helped my trip go faster.

It takes a lot to really destroy long friendships. I guess being friends is not easy, but somehow it can always work out if you just talk. We’ve talked a several times since then.

I guess I’m willing to give him one more chance!!!!!!