There is just something about seeing an old friend from childhood that you don’t get to see much any more. They loved you before you knew about blackhead extraction, bikini waxing or Beaujolais – with them you ate baloney, bomb pops and buttered saltines in a blissful suburban haze benign of bitchiness or better-than. Years later they distracted mom and dad with tales of Aunt Bernice’s boil-lancing while you pinched that old bottle of bourbon from the liquor cabinet under the high-fi to bring to the bonfire. They looked past the bumps that littered your face and never said I told you so when you went half bald trying to achieve Barbra’s Star is Born Bob with the Tony Home Perm. You see them now and it’s as though nothing has changed. Luckily the years have been kind even though you feel driven to botox, buttocks and brow-lifts. When you see them now, especially blending in with your other best friends you smile and feel so very very blessed.