friendship – Jason Toney

December 5, 2021 / 0 Comments

Unbreakable

“We’re loud!”

I don’t remember if it was Anna or Melle who remarked on our booming voices and boisterous laughter last night, but the statement was true. We sat around an oval-shaped table eating lumpia and pancit and garlic rice and Menudo and donuts at Robinson Space in the middle of the Historic Filipinotown neighborhood of Los Angeles. The room was decorated for Christmas and revolution, and we were having a grand old time.

These old friends hadn’t been together in this configuration since before the early days of the pandemic. It had been two years without our usual round of March birthday brunches and drinks. Two years without quick get-togethers or whatever we used to do when a plan could come together without worrying about our mortal safety and that of those we love just by breathing the same air with people we like for a while.

And yet there we were, drinking white claws and seltzer water and making small talk with new acquaintances.

It was a family dinner. It was a celebration. It was recognition of the work one of us had been doing during these desperate times. While most of us had been in our own homes protecting our butts, Melle had been in the streets of our city making sure our neighbors didn’t go hungry. Her organization, Polo’s Pantry, was in its infancy when the needs of those she intended to serve increased exponentially. At the same time, many of the government services they may have depended on became unavailable.

Melle and the community coalitions she is a part of sprung into action to meet those needs. They did so from nearly the moment stay-at-home orders began at the time when we didn’t fully understand the risks, the safety protocols, or how long we’d be living this way.

“I say ‘I love you’ through food,” she said as she spoke to the attendees last night. Food is a love language. It had brought all of us together on a Saturday night to laugh, cry, learn, and share.

To get loud.

Be loud.

December 2, 2018 / 0 Comments

Just Begun

“Hold your applause until the ceremony end. Yours truly, truly blessed, yet again a noble planted, Super magic, abracadabra kid.”

— Mos Def

The week was filled with reminders of the age of this body. It began with a diagnosis of gout and ended at the Teen Vogue Summit surrounded by people twenty years or more my junior. I confess to feeling a type of way about the new frailties exposed in this frame, no matter how minor they may be, and for looking more like someone’s dad than an interesting person to the bright-eyed and hopeful young folks that had taken over 72andSunny on Saturday but, ultimately, I come out of these past seven days with gratitude.

There was a point on Saturday when I stood in a circle with people closer to my age than not, good friends and familiar faces, and we talked and laughed. We caught up and reminisced a bit, not with nostalgia but to acknowledge accomplishment and to recognize who we’ve become at this moment in time.

As I walked away from that group to find my seat and listen to Serena Williams and Naomi Wadler discuss how they navigate being badasses, I looked out on the sea of young women no longer thinking about my own mortality or relevance and, instead, appreciating their enthusiasm and the ways in which they were preparing to enter adulthood.

I’m grateful for that collective sense that it’s a great time to change the world whether you’re an 11-year-old who already has a strong sense of purpose or a 40-something like me who needs to get comfortable with a lower sodium diet while embracing the increasing amount of “salt” in his beard.

I’ve been here awhile, but we’ve only just begun.

February 11, 2018 / 0 Comments

Plans are Like a Dream U Organise

“Another life again we almost lived. Another list of things we almost did.”

— The Go Team

Meditation: See the Big Picture, 19 minutes

I’m part of a team. I’m part of many teams, but this past week, I spent time in San Francisco with my formal org-charted group. It was the first time I’ve spent focused time with everyone all at once since a re-organization early in 2017.

Things clicked. Day after day, my notebook filled with “A-ha!” thoughts and ideas. In today’s meditation, the guide prodded me to see the whole canvas. That is how I felt when I returned to LA and the normal rhythms of work on Friday. My nose had been too close to things. I could see the craftsmanship and the flaws, while having little sense of how it was all working (or not working) in concert.

That picture is clarifying. In the course of day-to-day routines and expectations and habits, the sense of what’s the most valuable thing you do or could often be doing gets lost. Those seven days were a map.

I’m grateful for these incredibly talented people to which I get to collaborate. They are smart and passionate and curious and competitive and quirky and clever. They challenge me. They push me to be better at what I do. And we’ve got a great leader—thoughtful, candid, and compassionate—who believes in us, celebrates and advocates for our work, and sees us as the people we are.

I’m grateful for her, for them, and the experience.

I’m also grateful for my team of friends. One of them came to the Golden State this week and brought us together across two cities. We met up, she and I, once in SF where we spent some time reconnecting, revealing our hearts and humor in equal measure. Then in Los Angeles with a larger group. The drinks flowed, the conversations got loud, the smiles grew full, and the hugs were long.

I’m grateful for her, for them, and the experience.

SEMICIRCLE by The Go! Team

September 28, 2013 / 6 Comments

Friendship in the Matrix

“Ain’t no need to rush. Breakfast can wait.” – Prince, Breakfast Can Wait

You can go through life and make new friends every year – every month practically – but there is no substitute for the few who truly improve you. These aren’t the people who are simply nice to you; they’re the ones who help you uncover the things that are holding you back. In subtle ways, they bring ideas to your attention that change your life. These friends don’t just sit beside you unknowingly; they shake your world up, reveal your obstacles and weaknesses, and remain a part of your life because they care.

-Angel Chernoff

I’ve been ruminating on the meaning of friendship a lot this week. At least my expectations of it. I think the quote above conveys a good portion of what I think of when I think of a “core friends” or “the fam” as is often referred amongst people close to me. These are people that lift me up, that challenge me, that sometimes see me better than I see myself. These are the people that can call me on my shit and I’ll take it in the spirit it’s given and hopefully learn from it. I hope they expect and respect the same from me.

There’s this other aspect of friendship, though, that sometimes gets overlooked. Friends share their lives with each other. Not just the awesome stuff but the awful too. Not just the collection of interests and quips that make up our digital personas but the angst of our every day as well as the little victories. We know the people that matter in each other’s lives. We learn what is important and what isn’t and how those things change over time. We get to understand hopes and dreams as well as fears and weaknesses.

As someone who plays most things close to the vest, I get how hard and scary that kind of sharing is and how easy it is to believe we’re connected because we wave at each other on The Internet. But without that part, that access to each other’s true lives and selves, how do we ever get to the desert of the real?

Be my Morpheus and I’ll be yours.

September 24, 2013 / 1 Comment

Santa Cruz (You’re Not That Far)

“I can’t say I was surprised.” – The Thrills, Santa Cruz (You’re Not That Far)

When I first started visiting Santa Cruz, 15 or so years ago, Pink Godzilla Sushi was the favorite restaurant of my local friends. It was a popular spot that was loud, had a wait on the weekends, and had an energy that was infectious.

And the food was good.

We returned to Santa Cruz over this weekend. I hadn’t been in maybe 7 years. Pink Godzilla was a shell of what it once was. At 8:45 on a Saturday night, one other family shared the restaurant with us. A couple tiny flies flittered slowly around our table. The staff seemed unhappy to see us and rushed us out the door. We checked the yelp reviews and saw that the restaurant had severely declined over the last year or two. We had ordered some familiar items but didn’t really eat.

There was no love in the food. Only sadness.

It was a reminder that things fall apart especially if you don’t cultivate and care for them. No matter the history, it’s about how you’re treating something right now.

I was in the chilly coastal city with friends I’ve had for most of my life. We hadn’t intended for this to be an old school crew kinda weekend but it ended up being that way. We didn’t realize it was something we needed.

Our friendship isn’t dilapidated like the walls of Pink Godzilla but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t put on a fresh coat of paint. Our brushes were cocktails and laughter and conversation. We put up new memories on the walls. There were little moments of magic and a recognition of what’s past and what’s to come and quiet assurance that we’re still here for each other.

We’ve been through some things together. Real shit, as we might say. And more is on the horizon. Hell, more is happening right now.

And we won’t let what we have meet the same fate as the sushi bar that has nothing left for us but fond memories of a time long past.