The Internet Friends World Tour

Or

Watching your friends expand

 

We’re careening home from a wedding in Ohio. Due to commitments, we skip the hotel and are driving straight through the night with a hopeful ETA of 3 am. I just want to get home.

My older daughter Rebekah and I are taking turns relieving whichever one is currently nodding at the wheel. My younger daughter Leah is too young to relieve, but is still an allergic-to-daylight teen, so she’ll probably not nod the whole night. Figures.

We pass under the “Welcome to West Virginia” sign. It’s a good sign. It’s not the Passover, but it’s a reasonable passunder. It means we’re making good time. Might even be home by 2:30 am.

When suddenly night teen Leah shrieks. “I have twin friends who live in West Virginia!” emits from her passenger-only face. “Can we stop and see them?” Oh man. My ETA just hit a relative speed bump.

Leah is our child born with all the social genes. From the time she first learned to say “hi!” she was determined that everyone she met would be her BFF. We endured many a near-crises with Leah when travelling. She would play with another 5-year-old for 10 minutes at an interstate jungle gym, and if we didn’t get her “new friend’s” phone number, we would almost have to call a crisis counselor. You would think we left one of her arms on the slide.

In days past, a child with crowd-shaped DNA might become homecoming queen, maybe class president. But Leah was homeschooled. And she still racked up more friends than I’ve secured my whole life, including my time in the Army, where you were told “this platoon are now your best buddies.” When Leah throws a Party for No Viable Purpose, 15 to 25 people show up, and 10 are upset that they can’t make it. It’s astounding. Leah makes everyone an MVP at her NVP Party. At a recent NVPP, a new friend showed up whom she just met while shopping at Goodwill. And newest BFF fit in great, an instant NVPP MVP.

 

When I was growing up, “friends” were people your age forced into your lives by proximity. Whether you wanted them as friends or not. Because they were the only breathing bipeds nearby. When Mom said “go out and play with your friends!” she meant her neighbor’s kids. You were going to like them whether you like them or not. Even that kid who insisted eating worms and dirt would make you a superhero. I had one proximity-thrusted “friend” who wanted me to help him dig up his buried German Shepherd. My other friend would find plenty of superhero food down there. I should introduce them, they lived close to each other. Then I could tell Mom, “na, my friends are sharing a superhero kids meal, I’m content here on the roof.”

As you progressed in school, your BFF choices list expanded. You were no longer manacled to the wormy wonder next door. Then I joined the Army, and found my Sergeant-imposed buddies were from many states.    

But homeschooled Leah’s friends are from all over the world. Amidst casual conversation, she says things like “oh my friend in Shanghai said…” I had to think what country Shanghai grew in. China? Micronesia? Maine? Admit it, you weren’t sure either. I just knew it wasn’t close by. And I knew it wasn’t too far south, or it would be called Shanglo.

While my kids were young, I would “date” them periodically–take them individually somewhere they wanted to go, to spend time alone with them while I still could. My older two would pick a place that piqued their persuasion. But Leah’s trip choices are based on her Internet Friend’s global coordinates. She recently told me I need to take her to Finland, because that’s where Scandinavian IF1 and SIF2 reside. I’m guessing Shanghai isn’t in Finland? Didn’t think so. Was hoping to resolve three IF’s with two round-trip tickets.

At 13 years old, Leah advised me of how desperately she needed to get to Atlanta. She had manifold friends there she had to meet. How did you acquire multiple mateys down in Atlanta? But I made the arrangements, to personally screen these strangers who were already my daughters’ distant BFF’s. And they were great. We later wound up visiting their homes, and some of them came to stay at ours more than once.

One winter she declared her desperate duty to charge up to Cleveland. Because it was a new IF’s birthday. In January? Nobody with a legal agenda goes to Cleveland in January! Not even people from Cleveland go to Cleveland in January! Can’t he move his birthday to May, or to Hawaii? This guy might do something unforgivable, like try to make Leah an Indians fan! At least I didn’t have to fear her falling into baseball temptation in Finland.

Fortunately, her older sister was willing to drive her. Two young girls. Two young pretty girls. MY two young pretty girls. Are driving. To Cleveland. In January. Because Leah has to bring a birthday present to a friend she hasn’t met yet. And fortunately for my girls and my sanity, I had stable friends in Columbus where they could safely stay. Friends I had met already. Not just on The Net. In person. Spent time with. Went to church with. I knew they were not mass murderers or Indians fans. Yet.

So now we’re invading West Virginia as the sun sets, with a long weary night drive ahead. And she has a sudden shrieking need to see her twin WV IF’s. I explain that States tend to be immense, the chances of us passing the town they live in are slim, and there’s no way I’m meandering hours out of the way for her next IF MVP party. I just. Want. To get home.

“What if they live on this highway, Dad? Can we pull off for a few minutes to see them if their town is on this road?” I can’t believe this. But to maintain my Best Dad Forever status, I say “ask them where they live”, knowing the chances of them residing along the lane we’re driving are next to none.

She sends a text to them. They text her back. “We’ll pass right through their town Dad! Can we see them, huh, can we?” I learned that sometimes BFF’s make BDF’s clench the steering wheel very hard. I look at the clock, do some quick mileage calculations, and again I quasi commit—“we’ll pass them around 9 pm. If your IF’s parents are willing to bring them to a fast food place right off the exit, you can see them for a half hour.” We’ll still get home by 3 am. And, I’m certain there’s no way their parents will do that on a school night.

She sends a text. They reply. “They’ll be at the Burger King off of exit ____ at 9:00! Thanks! You’re the Best Dad!” Say “forever” please. My older daughter joins me in a WV noggin waggle. Hopefully she can un-bend the steering wheel when it’s her turn to relieve me.

We meet her twin WV IF’s and their parents. They’re great. We do a Burger King hour. I’m glad we met them, they’re really nice. A few months later, the twins come to stay with us in SC for a week. 

“You just turned 18, what do you mean you have friends in Vegas?!?” I guess if she can have sidekicks in Singapore at 15, she can have cohorts in Vegas at 18. Yeah, don’t worry, no fear, I’m still going with you to meet this one. Me and your sister! And I’m so glad we did. What a great new friend she found online and in of all places, Vegas. And I know this will shock you, but IFBFF-Vegas is flying out to SC to spend a week with us. 

After greeting her new Nevada crony, I took my 2 daughters to Utah for a few days of exploring. One evening while hiking in the St. George Barnes and Nobles, I was sitting in the Starbucks aisle, while my daughters browsed the bookshelves nearby. When shrieks and laughter of 3 girls arose from my daughters-2 aisle, I didn’t even have to look up. I knew Leah had just made another friend. I wonder when this one will be coming out to visit.

Proverbs 27 implies “better is a friend nearby than a brother far away.” It’s better for me, let me tell you. And a lot less expensive. Maybe I should make that my daughters’ lifetime memory verse. I’ve never been much for tattoos, but I guess there’s always an exception. “Dad, can I get a tattoo?” “Sure, as long as this verse is intertwined with it somehow”. Though I have to admit–I like the excuse to travel with my daughter. It’s like an ongoing blind date.

Hopefully as Leah matures and goes on with her life, I can still use the excuse of protecting her so I can travel the world with her. To, uh, meet her friends. And protect her. After all, we still haven’t met her IF’s in Finland or Shanghai. And who knows what kind of characters they’ll be. 

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So, who’s your social child? Do your kid’s IF’s make you nervous? Have you travelled great lengths to keep them near? Do your own IF’s unease you, or do you long to go dig in their backyard with them? Are you the social child? Have you made more friends since you met the Net? And answer this one carefully: are your friends expanding? Maybe we can meet some day at the Shanghai Starbucks while Leah screams in the aisle nearby.