Yesterday evening, I got the news that Socrates had passed on. It wasn’t a shock in many respects, though he had been doing well enough that I actually thought he would make it to the fall.
Socrates was not a friend, but was in that rare and special category that I would call a good enemy. He was a mean, cantankerous, and possibly even vicious SOB. He also had a sense of humor, a code, and you knew where you stood with him. He also came the closest so far of any wolf to doing me harm.
A few years ago when I was doing meatballs (meat with medicines inside), he demonstrated the elasticity of chain-link fence by hitting it at a run and bowing it out a good distance to snatch a meatball from my hand. Had I not been carrying it properly, my fingers might well have gone with the meatball—which would have just made it all the better from his standpoint. He was quite pleased with himself that day, and I swear he laughed at me after he did it.
For all that he was, I could respect him and even like him—not because of what he wasn’t, but because of what he was.
I’ve tried to explain the concept of a good enemy to some people, and don’t think I’ve done a good job of it. Maybe you have to be or have been in an odd position on the spear (or knife) to get it. Maybe not. But I would like to take a stab at it here to see if I can do better.
Friends/acquaintances are easy to find, especially as today’s social networking often encourages one to claim someone marginally met as a “friend” for life. While I sometimes take shameless advantage of it, I do find the cheapening of the concept of friendship as a problem, but that is a post for another day. What truly matters to this argument is that acquaintances and casual friends are not hard to come by.
What is truly rare and wonderful are what I call “True Friends.” In years past, I summed up the difference between the two types as that True Friends were the people in your life for whom you would give your own life without apparent hesitation, and know that they would do the same for you. These are the people who not only help you with bodies, they also don’t turn state’s evidence. You trust them with your life, your fortune, your honor, your spouse, and your kids. They are the blood you have chosen. People like this in your life you usually can count on your fingers, if not the fingers of one hand.
Enemies are a dime a dozen. As with friends, the term enemies has been cheapened and such is also a growing problem within the social compact much less the social matrix. Again, that is a discussion for another day. Enemies range from the person who snubs you professionally or socially to any of the true scum-of-the-earth that pollute our world. Real enemies have few or no rules to life, no code, no honor, and usually a propensity towards violence without thought or meaning. True enemies are usually those that you could (and even should) kill and who’s demise would greatly improve the world.
Every now and then, though, comes along a rare breed. They are the Good Enemy. They may be your complete antithesis and stand for all that you despise; but, they also have something more to them. It often is a code, a sense of honor, a strong intellect with corresponding sense of humor, and something else I find hard to define. The end result is what truly matters, however, and the funny thing is you trust them, respect them, and even like them.
The good enemy is the person you would sit down and enjoy a beer with them, even knowing that in the past they had orders to kill you, or could even still have them now but that circumstances of the moment make the meeting safe. Safe because they do have that intellect, humor, and honor. Safe because the circumstances of the moment are such that you would have each other’s backs against any and all comers. They are the person that if any but a friend had to kill you, you would want it to be them because you knew that they would do it right and do right by you and yours then and afterwards. You may despise that for which they work, but you understand and respect the principled decision that went into their choosing to do so. You even understand when it was just circumstances.
Good Enemies are the people that you are almost surprised when the end comes, amazed if they die peacefully in bed, somewhat regret you weren’t the agent of death, and you miss them. Two-legged or four-legged. I’ve been fortunate to have both, and in this case, I will miss his meanness Mr. Socrates.
For the world is much less rich and vibrant for the loss of any True Friend and Good Enemy.
LW
