The Dudes

Way back in 1991 I discovered Utah. I had been to Utah a few years before to ski with a bunch of my gang from my Latin America Division. We had rented a cabin at Sundance, the quirky ski canyon in the lower Wasatch Mountains that was owned by Robert Redford. He named it after his breakout role as the Sundance Kid in the 1969 classic Paul Newman / Robert Redford film, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. That trip gave me a taste for both the great powdery skiing of Utah and the overall wonders of Utah, the Beehive State. It was in 1991 when I returned with my kids (only Roger and Carolyn at the time) to rent a condo at the base of Deer Valley in Park City, that I decided that my dream of owning a ski house had to happen in Utah, and, indeed, in Park City, the “sin city” of the otherwise dry and ultra-conservative Morman-led state of Utah. Park City had been a mining ghost town when Redford and Newman filmed their signature western, but in the intervening 20 years, it had become a major ski destination with no less than three world class ski mountains.

There are great turning points in everyone’s life and one of mine was attaching myself to Utah through the purchase of a ski home. Not only did I own a succession of wonderful homes over 15 years in Utah, but I came to spend winters and summers in the big sky country of the American West. That gave me an appreciation for a country and a range of wonderful people who have been lifelong friends. One of them was a rowdy and fun-loving woman who came to massage my weary ski muscles. Her name is Deb and to this day I consider her one of my dearest and fondest friends. She knows every member of my family and is beloved by everyone who has ever met her. There is nothing I would not do for Deb and I sense that would go in reverse as well. We have shared so many wonderful fun times and memories that she inhabits a huge part of my soul.

Deb is that unusual brand of Mormon whose father sang in the famous Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and yet whose Lesbian lifestyle has caused her excommunication from that same Utah icon, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know many Mormons from my days in Utah and they almost all tend to be wonderful people, but few are as special and full to the brim of goodness more so than Deb.

For almost all the time I have known Deb, she has been partnered in life with an equally wonderful and special woman named Melissa. She goes by Mel to those who know her and for all of Deb’s rowdy good humor, Mel is the epitome of grace and refinement. She is a therapist by profession and runs a series of homes and programs for troubled youths. Mel and Deb are as good a pair as any salt and pepper shakers on any table. They are a study in contrast and compliment as much as any couple I know. I cannot imagine one without the other.

Kim and I have driven well out of our way at times just to see and spend time with these two magnificent women. So, imagine my surprise yesterday after I had dropped Kim off at the Emergency Room do deal with her accidental injuries to her head and neck when she passed out after Thanksgiving dinner and literally hit the deck face first, when I suddenly got a call from Mel asking me where I was. I began by wondering how the hell she had learned so quickly of Kim’s trauma, but then it was revealed that she and Deb were sitting on the bench in front of our hilltop house, trying to surprise us with an unexpected visit. I am generally a big fan of friends just stopping by unannounced (I do that regularly to others). But this unplanned visit was something more. I can think of no better surprise than an unplanned visit from Deb and Mel. Seeing my beautiful and lovely wife, Kim, get so badly bruised and beaten was far more traumatic for me than I put on to all those family and friends that care so much about her. This is the person I can’t imagine my life without and for whom I would always step in to take a beating for without hesitation if I could. And just like that guy on the St. Jude Hospital fundraising ad, who says nothing is more painful than watching helplessly when his child is hurting and in danger, I have to be strong whenever Kim is even slightly imperiled, much less when a Mack Truck runs over her face. Seeing Deb and Mel at my door was the best medicine for what ailed me in my trauma over Kim’s trauma.

I immediately commanded them to stay the night even though they were due back in Salt Lake City, and like the good friends they are, they quickly agreed. Kim and I had literally nothing on our agendas for the day other than getting her out of the ER and back home. That happened more smoothly than anyone can expect these days. The diagnosis of a concussion and broken nose meant rest and home care. Since sleep was a high priority for her heeling, I spent the entire afternoon just chewing the proverbial fat with Deb and Mel on every and any topic we could conjure up. It was the highest and best use of my time on an otherwise miserable day of worrying about my beloved Kim.

One of Deb’s favorite expressions over the years has been to refer to any and everybody as a Dude. It has long since become a term of great endearment between us to call each other Dude. The rowdiness of expression does not suit Mel or Kim in the least, but I suspect both Deb and I could agree that they each still deserve the accolade, the highest praise we can give to anyone of importance in our lives. I have never been a person who easily or quickly tells people that are in my life, especially not those that are not my primary relationship, that I love them. I am no strong silent type, but saying “I love you” to a friend has never been easy for some reason. That has never been the case for me with Deb and Mel. I have loved them both for as long as I can remember and I feel the love from them in the same degree. It is a wonderful feeling that makes life more tolerable at the bad moments and far grander in the good moments.

This was a very laid back Thanksgiving year for us. There were plenty of well wishes from family and friends, but for me, the boundless love of an unplanned visit from Deb and Mel, the best Dudes I know, made my holiday. I always liked the original big hit from Coldplay called Viva La Vida. The chorus really spoke to me. “I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringin’, Roman Cavalry choirs are singin’, be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can’t explain I know Saint Peter won’t call my name. Never an honest word, but that was when I ruled the world.” I have never ruled the world but I come closest to that when I spend time with Deb and Mel. I realize that plenty for which I am thankful in life are those blessings of these wonderful Dudes.