Date: Friday, September 29, 2006

Tommy Roach, Danny McKay, Brent Iverson, Paul Tiernan.   Best friends!  Kindergarten, Grade School, High School.  Wow!  What a lucky guy.  Memories that last a lifetime with friends who slowly go their own direction.  Isn't funny that it takes until we become adults to understand the song "Puff the Magic Dragon".  I could recount countless stories about all my "Best Friends"  growing up. Occasionally a smell, sound, taste or some sensory reminder fires a memory impulse in my brain. A sly grin, chuckle or sometimes even a tear accompany the memory.  What a gift.  I have been lucky to have many.  Yet,  I am most lucky to have my one true "bestest"  friend.( Of course my wife and kids excluded.)  John Michael Bailey,  "Beep"  as  a nickname given to Michael by Tony his brother and subsequently "Beep Beep" given by me.  Michael and I met one early morning Wednesday  in March of 1980. 

I was the Captain of The Santa Clara University Golf Team. This early Wednesday,  the team and potential candidates for the team were guests at the La Rinconada Country Club in Los Gatos.  I took a quick look at the cast of  characters assembled and realized we were probably in for a long season.  An NCAA  Division One program with no budget and no scholarships.  Still,  we had hoped to field the best possible line up in the spring.  As we proceeded to play that morning I would occasionally hear angry cries of distress coming from parts of the golf course.  Obviously someone was not having a good day.  I saw a friend of mine,  Michael Shea Jr. an incoming Freshman with excellent promise to make the team,  playing up ahead and asked him if he knew who was having such a tirade?   Oh  yeah,  that's that new kid from Salt lake.  Well I snapped back to Michael Shea.  "You tell him to watch his manners,  or he won't get very far on this team!"  A few holes later I saw Michael Shea again and asked whether he had spoken to the long haired boy from Utah yet.  Michael said "Sure did".  With a sense of superiority and confidence that this new comer had seen the error of his ways I said "Good, and what did he say?"  Michael looked at me with a funny look in his  face and without missing a beat said to me.  "He told me to tell you to go F------ yourself!"  I guess the look on my face was to die for because everyone within earshot completely lost it and were grabbing their own guts in laughter.  I got in my car left the facility.  I don't know whether I was so  angry, embarrassed or both.  I stewed all day long on the situation until I couldn't  take it any longer.  I got his telephone number from the coach and proceeded to call him ready to admonish him for his behavior and try to ensure a better  second chance meeting.  As I picked up the telephone,  I did not hear a dial tone..thinking something was wrong with the phone I clicked it down to see what the matter was.  Just then I heard "Hello, hello."  I blurted out, "Who the heck is this?"  "This is Michael Bailey,  is this Ernesto?"  The telephone never rang on either end.   We were both calling each other to straighten out the situation.  Since that day,  Michael and I have spoken to each other 3 to 4 time per week.   Boy am I lucky!  Michael Shea and I continue today with a great friendship.  We each have lovely Wives and beautiful children.