He went on to say, “When I got back from my mission in Chile, I still had two years left on my United States Marines commitment. I had been selected for Force Recon training, so I pretty much ate, drank, and crapped what and where the Marines told me to for the next two years.”
Special Forces, cool! And he went on a mission to a third world country and probably had interesting experiences ministering to the natives—sweet! Plus, he just said ‘crap’ during a church talk—what a rebel! This guy fucking rocked! All true, although, I would never have worded it like that at the time, not even in my head. It would have been more like ‘this guy seems really neat!’
Hank further explained, “One good thing was that I really didn’t have any reason to spend money at that time. I ate on base, my lodging was covered by the Marines, and I had paid cash for my pick-up truck when I bought it before my mission. I’d used my sign-on bonus and my savings, which I’d earned bucking hay bales every summer during high school, to purchase the truck. Once I started getting a regular paycheck, I was able to start putting money away immediately, and before long, started investing in some safe stocks and bonds. I’ve continued this strategy since then and have built up a pretty decent portfolio of stocks, bonds, and even some precious metals.”
As inferior as this made me feel, I was becoming very impressed with this dude. I mean, the only things I had acquired or accumulated so far in my adult life were kids and debt. I was the proud owner of a used Geo Prizm and probably about two grand worth of furniture in our rental house. We owed around $15,000 on our first new SUV, a bare bones Ford Explorer we had recently acquired. I had an insignificant amount of money in the bank, and I figured we’d be living from paycheck to paycheck for the next several years. In addition, it was clear that if we didn’t want to shop exclusively at Goodwill, Mandy would have to continue babysitting the twin toddlers Ashley and Avery, who lived down the street while their parents both worked full time jobs. It had never occurred to me that someone who was just a few years ahead of me in training, with a similar sized family and an equally expensive education, could actually be ‘comfortable’ financially.
My ego felt a bit threatened, but I was instantly fascinated by Hank. I began hoping that maybe I’d have a chance to get to know this guy and something positive would rub off on me.
Hank went on that day, and over the next two Sundays to offer solid advice and education on how to start putting money aside, even on a meager budget. He explained that this money could be used for long term investments, or, at a bare minimum, a ‘rainy day’ fund. He referenced and quoted from multiple financial self-help books like Rich Dad, Poor Dad and The Millionaire Next Door during his lessons. I was particularly impressed by his study of these almost biblical reference texts on how to get ahead financially, because I knew what was required of him as he was finishing up his medical training. Like me, he had his own ball-breaking schedule to work. In addition to the demands placed on him as a final year resident, he had mentioned in his lessons that he was picking up as many moonlighting shifts as he could get. As if these pursuits weren’t enough to fill his waking hours, I knew that he also had to be preparing for taking his Anesthesia Boards in less than nine months. This dude was an animal!
I had noticed that Hank’s wife Patti drove a maroon Ford Expedition with dark tinted windows, which provided solar protection for the leather interior and for his kids, smartly clothed in the best Gap Kids had to offer, while they watched their movies on their built-in video screens. This was in sharp contrast to Mandy’s entry level Ford Explorer. In comparison, the untinted windows of our vehicle created a fishbowl effect that displayed the cheapness of the interior, the lack of any luxury options, and the garage sale fashions in which its occupants were clad. I suddenly felt a need to get my shit together and it seemed like Hank could be a great source of inspiration, and possibly provide information I could use to turn the tide and hopefully stop feeling like Mandy and I were slowly spiraling into a black hole of debt and prolonged poverty.
After the meeting, I introduced myself. Hank told me that he knew of me. As it turned out, he had also noticed some similarities between our families and had asked about me at church and at the hospital. He told me that my upper level residents, who he knew from his interactions with them at the hospital, had good things to say about me. None of them had worked with a Mormon before and, apparently, one of my chief’s had half expected me to be an uptight square peg who wouldn’t quite fit into the round holes usually filled with the Baptists, Presbyterians, and Church of Christ members that made up most of the medical community at the hospital. He told me that his anesthesia residency peers had eventually admitted to him that they’d had similar expectations for him initially, which was why they had treated him a bit strangely at first. Let’s face it, Mormons are kind of known for trying to shove their religion down other people’s throats, so people in a work or educational environment who haven’t been around many Latter Day Saints could rightly be defensive and ready to blow us off if we start getting uppity and pious, or start spouting off about the unique nature of Mormon doctrine. Some folks are convinced that Mormons are weirdos based on the church’s idiosyncratic teachings. One did not have to be a church historian to know, for instance, that many members are asked to wear special undergarments at all times; or that the Mormon Church’s history included a period of time during which polygamy was advocated, and even encouraged. Hank’s point was that both of us had managed to break down some of the barriers between ourselves and our colleagues.
Hank, like me, tended to disarm people who had these preconceptions with his ‘every guy’ nature. Both of us knew that there is a time and a place to assert religious beliefs, and that even though we weren’t drinking coffee with our peers in the residents lounge or going out for a beer with them after work, we would fit in best if we kept a low religious profile.
He went on to say that he and Patti had been meaning to approach us and let us know they had noticed a potential compatibility between our families as well. They had apparently already submitted a request to the bishop that he call Mandy to fill a position in the ‘Primary Organization,’ where she could assist Patti in teaching—the children about Jesus and the many, peculiar church doctrines that defined Mormonism. As we talked, I felt a definite kinship with Hank and even began to feel there was a reason he and I had made each other’s acquaintance. I somehow predicted that his family and mine would grow close and end up spending a lot of time together.
After visiting for a few minutes, we both agreed that we needed to round up our families and hit the road. We exchanged phone numbers and each of us expressed our interest in hearing from the other, so that we could make plans to get together soon.
Over the years that I’d been a member, I had met many people at church who were amiable, easygoing, and intelligent. Rarely, I had met some who had somewhat interesting backgrounds or were involved in successful businesses or professions. I’d even made a few Mormon friends along the way. Mandy and I had spent a fair amount of time during my medical school years with several married couples from Utah who shared some of our interests outside of church and with whom we’d participated in social engagements, including group dates and informal parties. But I had found it difficult to connect with a large majority of my Mormon acquaintances, who never seemed to have any individuality, and had even less charisma. The characteristics that made them ideal in the eyes of the church leaders made them predictable and boring to me.
Before meeting Hank that day after the Priesthood meeting, I had never met someone who made such an immediate impression on me, especially because he had achieved an amazing balance between his spiritual and worldly interests and pursuits. At the time, it seemed to me that the guy was the personification of the attributes I wanted to base my life upon. Because of this, I was naturally drawn to him and felt compelled to forge a close relationship with him which I hoped would help me achieve a similar balance in my own life.
A
fter our conversation that day, I left the auditorium and began my familiar search for Mandy and our children. As one would expect from a church organization with a central leadership and an almost military-like administrative model standardized throughout the world, all Mormon Church buildings are constructed in a similar way. The source of inspiration for the architecture is purely based on functionality with seemingly little regard to any aesthetic considerations. As a rule, the large auditoriums, including the chapel, are in the central ‘core’ of the building. The various smaller meeting rooms, restrooms, and administrative rooms generally make up the outer ‘shell’ of the meetinghouses. Between the ‘core’ and the ‘shell’ is an ovular hallway that runs around the entire interior of the building.
Because of this basic architectural attribute, one can easily find one’s family following church services by stepping into the hallway, picking a direction, and meandering through the throngs of spiritually recharged Mormons who are doing the same thing. At this point in the Sabbath day, nearly all of the building’s occupants have been there for over three hours, so the focus of every parent is to gather their family and flee to the parking lot, where they can load their progeny into the minivan or high capacity SUV, escaping to the secular world that exists beyond boundaries of the church property as efficiently as possible. The only inherent pitfall of this strategy is the possibility that your family members might be just out of sight and, should they be moving in the same direction as you are, it is unlikely that you’ll run across them.
On the day of my fateful introduction to Hank Simmons, I lucked out and chose the proper initial bearing after entering the never-ending hallway of infinity. Within seconds of setting off to meet my wife and three young daughters, my gorgeous bride’s strikingly blonde hair could be seen among the scores of Mormons making up the boiling sea of humanity moving through the hallway in my direction. Despite the fact that I was figuratively swimming against the current, I was able to reach her quickly. Like any decent husband would, I assessed the situation and determined how best I could ease her burden. I could see that she had our two-year-old, Emma, in her right arm, a diaper bag over her left shoulder, and was holding hands with our eight year old daughter, Ryan, who was clinging to her five year old sister, Lizzie, with her left hand.
I swooped in to take Emma from Mandy and cradled her to my neck. Then I snatched up the diaper bag and slung it on my shoulder and reversed direction. Moments later, we reached the small lobby which led to one of the three exits. As I pushed through the doors into the humid air outside, I turned and quickly located Mandy, who was leading our other two girls out through the double glass doors and heading toward me.
Our eyes met and I knew she was about to ask the ominous question regarding how bored and unsatisfied I had been with the final meeting I’d attended. Happily, I was able to muster a legitimate response that brought her a sense of satisfaction I’d never been able to provide before during our post-church debriefings.
“Well,” she asked, “how awful was your meeting today? I’m sorry I had to send you off to your boring old Priesthood Meeting without me.”
I turned around and met her eyes with my own.
“Actually, today was different!” I spoke with an excited affect that I was certain she had never seen me exhibit on church property. “I just met my new best friend!”
Section Three:
Best Buddies
Chapter 8
My family and Hank’s started getting together on a regular basis. We didn’t have much time to socialize, as we were all busy, but when we did have time to spend with friends, we did so together. Hank continued to impress me with his life experiences and his charismatic self-confidence. It seemed that nearly every conversation brought us closer and reaffirmed that we shared a likeness that was uncommon, to say the least.
As I got to know him, I discovered that once Hank had made a decision to engage in a particular activity or pursuit, he always saw it through to the end. As I was also a very goal-oriented person, this attribute made me admire him all the more. One such example was that, when I met him, he was nearing completion of his training to attain the distinction of black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He had started training after coming to Fort Worth for his Anesthesiology residency, just three and a half years earlier. I remember thinking he was some sort of super stud and genius at the same time and wondered where he found the time and energy. He didn’t just develop an interest in finance and martial arts, he really committed to learning new skills, all while he was submerged in his Anesthesia training, not to mention raising a family—which he also seemed to be pretty good at. Eventually, I would discover that Hank was obsessive about nearly everything that interested him. I remember a time, many years following the early days of our friendship, when I found out that he was driving three hours into Dallas on work nights to engage in the pursuit of his newfound interests, only to drive back home by six the next morning and head off to work. When I would ask him how he operated on such little sleep, he would always say the same thing, ‘’I’ll sleep when I’m dead.’
Hank and I became buddies, for sure. For the remainder of my first residency year, I would look forward to hanging out with him and Patti, and I even developed a godfather like relationship with his kids. My oldest daughter Ryan and Hank’s oldest son Peter, who were in fourth and fifth grades, respectively, even started to crush on each other. Our second daughter, Lizzie, became fast friends with Hank’s daughter, Nicky. Even our toddlers seemed to make a connection, and, as they grew, my youngest daughter Emma and Hank’s youngest son Lucas prattled on about their eventual marriage, which would be in Aladdin’s castle, where Princess Jasmine would be Emma’s Maid of Honor. My fourth child, Corey, was born after Hank and Patti moved away. By that point they had stopped having children, so my only male child would never have a kindred spawn amongst their progeny.
Patti, Hank’s cute-but-prudish wife, had grown up in the Church in Utah. She was fun to be around and seemed to possess just enough naiveté to laugh along with our manly antics without really understanding just how inappropriate we were often being. It would be years before she would let herself see the man that Hank really was. As we teased her and jibed her about being a ‘Molly Mormon,’ she laughed good naturedly and tried not to be concerned that Hank and I were drifting away from mainstream Mormonism, immersing ourselves in the secular world around us.
Although, during my initial interactions with him during meetings of the Mormon priesthood, Hank seemed to be all business, he actually had a much more complex personality. This was fine with me. There is no doubt that I have always been a driven and focused individual when it came to education, work, church, and the raising of my family. Yet on the other hand, I have always been ready to cut loose when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately, my tendency has been to join right in with whoever was going against the flow or being disruptive in my immediate vicinity. This personality trait—or flaw, depending on the beholder—has frequently gotten my ass into trouble with my parents, my wife, and my supervisors at work. Hank seemed to share my deviant proclivity. My delinquency seemed to complement his—and vice-versa.
Unfortunately for Mandy and Patti, Hank and I tended to embrace the mayhem which often ensued when one family showed up at the other’s front door. With six little kids and two man-children to deal with, our brides most assuredly had their hands full whenever it was time for something that required some semblance of order, even as simple as a group meal. I know that they looked forward to family get-togethers, but they often felt like Hank and I were too focused on entertaining each other, while they attempted to keep the combined tribes organized. The term ‘herding cats’ was used by Mandy, describing any outing involving the two families. Despite the chaos we helped create, my ‘brother from another mother’ and I also did our best to ensure an atmosphere of fun and adventure, so it was often difficult for us all to say goodbye when our visits were over.
Chapter 9
What
I came to realize about my best friend, some years later, was that he closely observed those he spent his time with and sort of adapted to the personalities of his friends, peers, and other acquaintances. People were drawn to him, as I was, because he always seemed to personify the highest degree of whichever trait he was incorporating into his personality at that moment in time. By adapting his character to those around him, he would make people feel like they had a unique compatibility with him. Just as I had initially been impressed by his appearance, knowledge, and demeanor, others tended to form a similar initial impression of him. Because he had mastered the art of making a first impression, it was flattering for those of us who met him to be accepted by him. Furthermore, it was exciting to be considered worthy of his friendship. I’ve become wiser over the course of my lifetime and after running across other individuals with a similar magnetism, I have come to realize that the gift these individuals have is not a true ‘cult of personality,’ but an innate ability to reflect the image that will work best for them in any given relationship or situation. Their acolytes are conned into believing they are valued by this person who has all the traits and success they admire. These pitiful souls are deceived into feeling they’ve been uniquely selected and put on a pedestal, which results in an unhealthy dependence on the attention they receive and a subconscious fear of losing the friendship they feel so ‘fortunate’ to have acquired.
*****
I think that most people who know me would consider me a bit of a wiseass. I tend to look for opportunities to entertain those around me. I’ll be the first to admit that the basic motivation to entertain others is that, in doing so, I entertain myself. Unfortunately for Hank’s ego, he was never a naturally witty dude, but he could definitely play wingman to a mirthful lead pilot. He was always fun for me to hang around with because he could be counted on to laugh along with my antics and he generally created a comedy-friendly environment.
Fatal Flaws Page 4
