IN MEMORY OF MY BEST FRIEND JACK

          Most people have friends and usually as the years pass by, one special friend seems to have lingered and been with them during the thick and thin of wading up to their armpits through life.  Well I have one special friend too and his name is Jack.  He's nothing much to look at, not what a person would call handsome or sore on the eyes, just kind of a middle of the road sort and he's been there too; in the middle of the road that is; not a good place to be when the traffic is coming straight at you.  I wouldn't say Jack was courageous, daring or brave during those intense instances, when life was just a shiny fender, a steel-chrome bumper away; no, like me, he was reckless and out of control just grinning and defying that old scythe slashing harbinger of death.  Whether I was with a group of friends or all alone and feeling blue, Jack always seemed to be there; he was like a dependable crutch; someone I could lean on and tell my troubles too.  Very agreeable fellow that Jack; he was always on my side whether I was right or wrong.
          Jack and I met when I was a young man, a time when the whole world was my special oyster just waiting to be shucked.  It was a time when I thought I could do anything and be anyone I wanted to.  They were carefree times and Jack was there, only an arm's length away, when I used and discarded women as easily as throwing away worn out tires; because of my superficial arrogance and indiscriminate thought for their feelings, I never realized or knew if one of them may have been the right woman for me.  Many were a feast for the eyes, to touch, caress and stretch across my big brass bed.  But Jack didn't care, so why should I.  And jobs, jobs were the same as women; when I became bored with them or didn't take them seriously, and why should I have cared; I was too good for a just any job anyway; my dreams and aspirations lifted me to staggering heights where I plummeted to the ground and flicked around like a dying fish until Jack lifted me up, dusted me off, slapped me on the back and said, "Who needs them - women and jobs are like buses - you miss one; another one will soon come along."
          The years passed by, hard lines formed on my face and my receding hair was flecked with silver; I hated the mirror; it never lied - but who needed mirrors when my trusted friend Jack was still beside me, encouraging me to press on and have a good time, except the parties weren't like they used to be, they seemed more hazy and foggy; the next mornings, instead of waking up to a beautiful woman lying beside me, when my eyes adjusted, there was grinning Jack saying, "Cheer up.  It's a new day.  You don't feel like going to work, so let's go have some fun."
          I have to say smiling Jack always made me laugh, except when I was crying and as I approached middle age, I seemed to be doing more crying than laughing.  And it was then, during my growing paunch, sagging jowls and puffy B-cup chest that I began to lose confidence in Jack.  It was hard to turn my back on Jack after all the good times we had; my hands slightly shook and my lips quivered, when I told him he had to go.  Closing the door on Jack was one of the most difficult things I had ever done, but I felt it was something that needed doing or one of the times I spiraled out of control, hit the floor, not even Jack would have been able to lift me back up.  As the days slowly passed, I missed my friend Jack: I craved his company and on more than one occasion, I came extremely close to letting him back into my life.  It was a very difficult time for me, because when I said good-bye to Jack, I also said good-bye to some of my other cronies.
          Being on my own was difficult until I found a job, unbelievably, one that I actually enjoyed.  A woman also came into my life.  The day we married, I noticed Jack lolling about with the guests, beckoning me to join him; his flashing smile encouraging and magnetizing but instead of embracing our long-time friendship, I reached for my new wife's hand and embraced her body close to mine, sweeping her out onto the dance-floor, where we gaily danced and laughed the night away.
          Many years have gone by since that magical day and sometimes since my wife has died, the children have moved away, the job has ended, I think how easy it would be to invite my friend Jack back into my life.  In a heart beat, I know that he would be happy, no, overjoyed to return.  But with a friend like Jack, Jack Daniel; I know that I would sooner spend the remainder of my days alone and in control of my destiny.  Cheers, eh!