My friend Phil.

I met Phil in 1961; my first day on a new job in Arlington, Virginia. I was assigned a desk next to his; we've been friends ever since. I don't recall much of our early friendship, but he seemed reminiscent of other colorful characters I had encountered since leaving a small Texas college nearly a decade earlier. I was married to my first wife Claudette at the time; our son Claude was 2 years old. Phil was single and when Judy, his future wife, arrived on the scene, we became good friends.

I recall Phil seeking my advice when mulling over the prospect of marriage. Ever ready to dispense pop psychology, I opined that, because of their different religious backgrounds, marriage might be problematic. It is humbling to reflex back over the past 50 years and note that they are still together while I am in my third (and last) marriage. Just to show what good sports they are, I was best man at their wedding. The ceremony was memorable in many ways, not the least of which was the amusing gaffe by the priest who performed the ceremony. Meaning to say, "Greater love hath no man than he lay down his life for a friend" (a noble sentiment), he inexplicably said, "Greater love hath no man than he lay down his wife for a friend."
Unsure that I had heard correctly, I was afraid to look at Phil, fearing that we might collapse into gales of laughter as we did so often on the golf course.

We remained close as Phil and Judy started their family. They had a girl (Carol), a boy (Charles), and another girl (Barbara). Later, they spent seven years in Europe. While they were gone, Claudette and I separated and divorced. By the time Phil and Judy returned, I had met Vicki, my second wife, and they were back in time to attend the ceremony. Some years later, after Vicki and I divorced, I met and married my third wife, Nancy. Gracious as ever, and obviously immune to shock, Phil and Judy immediately welcomed her into our lives.

I can hear Phil as he reads this. “Hey I thought this was supposed to be about me!” Never one to soft pedal his opinion, Phil gets right to the heart of the matter and lets you know exactly how he feels. Fair enough! Let’s move on.

Note to reader: Phil will probably dispute much of these recollections; that is his nature. Although he has mellowed considerably since the early days, he is still disinclined to suffer fools gladly. Click here to see an early example.


Describing Phil is difficult. He falls into no discernible type or classification. He is as much at ease watching an Opera or a Broadway musical as he is touting a horse race or analyzing a baseball game. He loves a good joke, but rarely admits it. He is quick to spot pretense or sham and even quicker to point it out. He can be counted on to give an honest answer whether you want to hear it or not. He is there when needed most. He has been very supportive during my many trials and tribulations.

Finally, it is not unusual to answer the phone and hear the voice on the other end say, “Hey, sh*thead! What's up?” That would be my friend Phil, of course.