In all of our lives, there are seminal moments. Those moments where we remember where we were when they occurred; those moments that we look back upon fondly or with great sadness. For some, it's the birth of a child; for others, it's the death of a family member. Perhaps a change in career, a chance encounter with a beautiful woman, or even a careless decision that caused awful consequences. Such moments separate time: before it came, after it passed.
The first crucial, formative moment in my life was a childhood ass-kicking. The latter occurred at Will Howell's age-8 birthday extravaganza at his home in Sagamore Hills. Will and I had been best friends for a few years, as his home was just 7 houses down from my own. We were always together, never apart. In fact, the only time we weren't with each other was when I was at Woolrich Elementary School and he was at the Catholic School in Lock Haven. Unbeknownst to me, Will had other friends at his school. Even more troubling, he apparently had grown as close with another young kid, by the name of Jeffrey James Raymond, as he had been with me. This, naturally, caused some jealousy on behalf of the young, slightly overweight ginger up the street. Put simply, I was not prepared to share my best friend from the neighborhood with some Catholic, city-slicker from Lock Haven.
So, when the day of the party came, all I could think about was that line made famous by the Nature Boy, Ric Flair: "To be the man, you got to beat the man." At this party, on this day, for this friend, I was prepared to *beat the man*. And, that man was Jeff Raymond. So, after we ate cake, Will blew out the candles, and I kissed a couple of girls, I decided to make my move. I saw an unsuspecting Raymond with his back turned and his attention focused elsewhere. This was my moment; I would not let it pass. I charged at him, speared him in the back, and perfectly form-tackled him down the side of the hill. A totally manly and courageous move from my 8-year-old perspective. He cried out of pain; I cried because that's what I typically do. We tussled. I punched, he scratched; I put him in a rear-naked choke, he pinched me in the ass; I dropped 12-to-6 elbows on his nose; he stuck his fingers in my eyes. I believe it was Mrs. Howell who mercifully took pity on young Raymond and the ass-kicking was broken up before it had the chance to get real ugly for the kid from Dunnstown. I had beaten the man; I was now the man.
Ironically, after beating the hell out of him, I eventually ended up respecting the hell out of him. From 7th grade on, through senior high, through our respective colleges, and then living with him during the majority of law school, Jeff Raymond and I have developed a friendship that has stood the test of time. And, to be honest, it's kind of strange. In a lot of ways, Jeff and I are polar opposites. He's a man of few words; I never shut up. His words carry meaning and substance; mine are just flourishes to hear myself speak. He knows how to use tools and fix things; I usually have a penchant for breaking things that, in turn, need fixed. He's responsible, hard-working, and serious; I'm....well, I'm not that. He's a dentist; I'm an anti-dentite. His favorite song is 'Downlow' by R. Kelly; I'm embarrassed to know who R. Kelly is. In 7th grade, he said he wanted to be "third string *defense* on the junior high basketball team" (no, that doesn't make any sense); I was dominating hoops and dunking balls by the 3rd grade. He has owned numerous motorcycles and handles them with ease; I once owned a scooter in high school and once wrecked a motorcycle into the side of his parents' home. He has perfectly shaped abdominal muscles; I'm convinced I was born without them. And, so on and so on.
But, Jeff Raymond has always been easy for me to like. He's the guy that most of us wish they could be: a man's man. Reliable, dependable, honest, trustworthy, respectful of others, self-deprecating among his friends, full of integrity, and *loyal* - no matter the situation. The first guy you call when you need help; the last guy you want to call when you've f'd up. Not because he won't help you - he will and has - but because he'll also tell you what you don't *want* to hear but what you *need* to hear. His values don't change; they're as solid as his abs. He's a rock. He is a guy you can count on. He is a guy you want with you when shit goes wrong. He is a guy you want with you when you're marrying the love of your life.
The best thing about Jeff Raymond? If *he* likes you, that says a lot of good about you.
I was honored to be by his side when he married his beautiful wife, Jennifer. I'm *thrilled* that he'll be by my side when I marry Stacey.
Groomsman, Jeffrey James Raymond. I can't wait to see you and Jennifer on Friday, my man.
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