The Blue Whale

How decades-long friendships can still be present and renewed

I have been called a connector: a person who brings people together. This skill has not just underpinned my friendships, but created connections between groups of friends, intersections that built new friendships over time.

After graduating from Earlham College and returning to my hometown outside of Washington, D.C., I was keen not to return to live with my parents in my childhood home. Instead, I approached some of my Earlham friends about renting a place together in upper northwest DC. I was on a tight budget, working at an unpaid internship for my local congressmen and taking shifts as a desk clerk at a hotel in Georgetown. I made two commitments to myself. First, to make ends meet, I would work seven days a week, and second, I wouldn’t let this busy work schedule affect my social life.

Pam was one of my roommates and an even more of a connector than I was. I introduced her to all my local high school friends — she in turn introduced her Earlham friends in D.C. to my friends. Fueled by the excellent music of the 1980s, we formed a rambunctious and friendly group, always up for a night of dancing, drinking and talking late into the night. That might have been the end of the story, where people met in D.C. once upon a time, hung out together, and then moved on.

But this story turned out differently. The lives of my hometown friends and my college friends were destined to intersect many times over the following years, acquiring a momentum of their own. Dating, invitations to join book clubs, softball teams, and even weddings to which I wasn't invited, but the now-connected-friend was! It was clear that what the youthful group of friends shared was more than a passing moment. We all continued to feel the pull of each other’s orbit.

This brings us to the story of the blue whale.

It started in New York City, where Pam, Chris and the rest of the now thoroughly blended group found themselves at a restaurant known for specialty drinks, ordered by the punchbowl. The “Blue Whale” featured a miniature whale that adorned a liberal amount of vodka, curaçao, and lemonade, providing the jet fuel for a raucous night on the town. By the end of the evening, the blue whale doubled as a microphone for the group’s rendering of the power ballads of the mid ‘80s and made for a lovely parting gift.

When Chris moved to Chicago, Pam and I put him in touch with other Earlhamites. After a spell, he came to share an apartment with Martha and another roommate. With Alice, another Earlhamite who lived nearby, they began a ritual where their outings included the mysterious appearance of a miniature blue whale. Presentations varied: baked into a birthday cake, introduced into a full bottle of milk and placed in the fridge (you figure it out), or served as part of an entree at a Mexican restaurant aided by the wait staff eager to be brought in on the conspiracy.

When the group disbanded, a new tradition began. The whale began a continuous voyage via USPS, packaged as a gift, or secreted in a canister of granola or other innocent adornment. Other times a real-life transfer occurred, for instance, in a small planter of flowers, disguised as a housewarming present or placed in a visitor's luggage or car trunk at the end of a weekend gathering.

The recipient was then charged with completing the log of the blue whale’s visit, documenting its various activities with pictures downloaded to a thumb drive and placed in the whale’s belly for safekeeping. The packing material contained a list of destinations for the next port of call and home of the next unsuspecting host. The amount of inventiveness of each host provided a strong incentive to continue the whale’s journey along with the imperative to not break the chain.

This friendship ritual combines creativity, adult play, and a way to sustain friendships among the far-flung souls who remain important to me and to each other.

It reminds me of my friend, Pam, who we lost too soon to a rare neurological disease.

And it allows our blended group of friends to be reminded of how decades-long friendships can still be present and renewed.

Do you have friends who you’ve brought together? Share your stories in the comment. We love to hear stories of friendships that grow and change through the years.

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From the Bookstore

“From the Bookshelf” posts are made possible by my decision to avoid purchasing any books via Amazon, and instead, choosing to buy all my books from independent bookstores.

I am a loyal patron of Copper Dog Books in Beverly, MA. The staff is always helpful in directing me to whatever title appears on the top of my reading list. If not in stock, it can be ordered and mine within a week’s time. Copper Dog survived through COVID-19 and their story made it into a feature in Esquire Magazine on how Meg Wasmer and Julie Karaganis and other owners of small bookstores survived the pandemic.

When I plan to be in Maine, I reach out to Wess Connally, the owner of Books, Lines and Thinkers (Rangeley, ME) to let him know when I will be in town and what to have ready for pick up. Wess opened BL&T in 1996, displaying titles that mirror our bookshelves at home. I visit him often, usually with my houseguests in tow. He is always quick with a recommendation of a classic, a current hot read, a local author or a murder mystery set in Maine. He is my “go to” for all summer reading.

I’m always looking for new bookstores — let me know your favorite local in the comments!

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Filling My Cup

As I explore the nature of friendship and connection, I am cogitating on the idea of “places as friends” or maybe “Friendly Geography.” Which places hold special significance for you and why? Which places hold you and sustain you, just like a friend can.

Here’s my nomination from my own happy place.