I am lucky. I don’t know when it began, and I don’t know why, but I know I’m not planning on tempting fate or asking any questions. I remember back a few years Apple ran some promotion where they gave out all sorts of free things from scratch off cards. My friend Matt dragged me out to the closest Apple store to meet with his friend Mike so we could all try to win some free swag. We all went in, and I walked out the proud owner of a new, first generation, iPod shuffle. It was a great night, and to be honest, I’m still a little shocked that Mike is such good friends with me after that. Fast forward a few summers. Many new iPods have come and gone, a few generations of the classic iPod and one generation of the iPod shuffle. I sell my then current iPod video off and purchase the new iPod shuffle, and head off to work, where in a span of just a few weeks I end up on the receiving end of a Christmas-bonus-esque iPod video and my name is called on the radio, and I win another new iPod shuffle.

Now, the younger guy I work with listens exclusively to KRock on the radio. A movie was being released in theaters earlier this summer, War, and they were doing some prize pack giveaway for it. I entered online, and promptly forgot about it. A few weeks later I’m sitting at Marist and my phone rings. I pick it up, and voila, they confirm my address and tell me that they’re shipping the prize pack to me, I’ve won (it’s sitting at my house right now, I haven’t opened it yet). I decide hey wow KRock you guys are great, I should enter some of your other contest online! So I sign up on their website and I enter a bunch of contests. A few days later, my phone rings again. I pick it up and it’s KRock – I won two tickets to a red-carpet screening of the movie Shoot ‘Em Up in NYC. I’m stifling my laughter on the phone so intensely I can barely breath. I go with my friend Matt to the City, we see the movie, walk out next to Paul Giamatti, it was fantastic.

Apparently, by winning these tickets I was automatically entered into a drawing for the grand prize, two spots in an official Shoot ‘Em Up Paintball competition. They call me, and voila, I’ve won that too. I don’t think I’ll even go, it’s on a very busy day for me. But that’s OK because just a few days later, my phone rings again. It’s getting to the point where every time my phone rings “Unknown” I start laughing; sure enough, it’s KRock again! I’ve won two tickets to the Interpol show at Madison Square Garden tomorrow night. I don’t even listen to Interpol, I’m not even going, but for those of you who are counting, that’s FOUR prizes in THREE weeks.

It’s getting ridiculous. Am I the only one entering? Is there a Man of the Year -esque glitch in the system that slips my name up to the top? I’m starting to just toss away my KRock luck, I’m not even collecting these last two prizes, it’s crazy.

Luckily (sorry) for me, KRock isn’t the only place I find myself becoming so very lucky. Right now, it’s my six month anniversary with my lovely girlfriend, Katie. And I couldn’t be happier.

*******

Recently, I had the great misfortune to see the movie Man of the Year. It’s very difficult to describe the movie, other than stating the fact that it was not a good one. Taking the previews at face value, the movie would be called a “comedy”. After watching it, I find it had elements of comedy, drama, suspense, spy-thriller – and every one was less than half-baked. Every single one failed. I didn’t laugh, I didn’t hold my breath, I didn’t wonder what would happen next; in short, I didn’t care.

I have to wonder what the advertising types were thinking when they gave the thumbs up on those commercials. Admittedly, the movie had Robin Williams in it, but he does not make a movie a comedy. Just look at Patch Adams, very dramatic and well done. If they had taken the time to show some of the more serious aspects of the movie in the previews, it might not have come as such a surprise to find the movie completely devoid of comedy. A set up like that, and people might actually have liked the movie. Sadly, for Williams and company, I haven’t found anyone who did.

*******

The first month and a half of school passes me by in the blink of an eye. After all this time, keeping up my appearance, neatly shorn beard, pants and button-downs, shoes and brushed hair, becomes a little more than I’m willing to do, so I cheat a little; nice jeans, clean t-shirts and very casual button-downs. The beard gets a little scruffy, the hair gets a little shaggy. I ditch my briefcase and just carry my books. I always try to look good, and carry myself well, but it’s not quite the same as day one, that first appearance.

And yet, amazingly, people don’t seem to notice. They still think I’m dressed up very nicely. Not a week goes by, from that third month until the semester ends, that I don’t get a shocked outburst along the lines of “Mark! You’re wearing jeans! You NEVER wear jeans!”

It matters not that I’ve been wearing jeans for eight weeks…

We get there early, because when you need to hold seven seats for a special showing like that, you don’t have much choice. We sit and we talk before the movie starts, enjoying one the company of one another.

The previews roll, the movie starts, and one by one, it lets every single one of us down.

*******

This isn’t intended to be a review of the movie. I’m going to be blunt; it was not a good movie. It was funny, but not consistently so. The acting was sufficient, though not overwhelming. The characters were shallow and lacked development. The situations were outrageous. It was not smart, it was not poignant, and it was not worth $9.50.

If you were to do some research on your own, referencing sites such as RottenTomatoes, you would find the majority of reviewers disagreeing with me. They claim it’s intelligent, “smart” and “evocative”, a “movie that wants to say something about male friendship”.

They couldn’t be more wrong. Three socially awkward teenage males leaving for college does not a study on male friendship make.

*******

I glance down the aisle to where my best male friend is sitting, a few people away. Friends since high school, we’ve come a long way. Our bond was strong at graduation, faded slightly during the first two years of college, and grew immensely since his transfer to my school (where he’s flourishing).

A great male friendship doesn’t need to look gay at times, like Superbad would lead you to believe. You don’t need to have crazy times, or be some girl’s “mistake”, or run from the cops with your friend in your arms.

At times, you can just watch a movie together without screaming obscenities or talking about sex.

Seeing the characters on the screen, I can’t help but feel badly for their “friendship”.

Earlier this evening, I received an invitation via Facebook to attend a barbecue being held by an old school friend, Andrew. We were close in middle school, less so in high school, and I don’t think we’ve spoken since graduation. No falling out, per se, simply a parting of ways. I flipped through the listing of invitees, and found it to be a great looking group, old friends I would certainly have enjoyed spending an afternoon eating burgers with, but the same thing could be said about the whole lot of them; minimal to no communication since graduation. Unfortunately, the barbecue is this coming weekend, and I’ll be on Long Island with my family, so I will not be in attendance.

I happened to mention this to Katie, and she informed me that she too had been invited to a party of an old friend that she’d not spoken with since graduation.

Now, my father recently quit his job after getting a better offer from another company, so his coworkers met with him at a bar tonight for a little good-bye drink (Friday is his last day); my mother left at some point to meet him, and she came home a bit earlier than he did. When I left my room to say hello to my dad, I found, to my great surprise, Renee, a friend of his, who I honestly can’t recall the last time I laid eyes on. It was probably at some point in middle school.

He used to be around all the time; he and my father grew up next to each other, so whenever I’d go visit my grandmother, he’d be around. He came to birthday parties and barbecues, gatherings and dinners. I’ll always remember with great fondness a card he gave me for my birthday one year; I think I may have it somewhere, traveling around with my through the years, though after various flooding and college I don’t know that it’s still in existence.

It’s not about me, though. After getting over the surprise, we spoke for a bit before my father came home, at which point I wandered off on my own and found myself writing this. From my room down the hall, I could hear terms thrown about like “MySpace”, “Six Degrees of Seperation”, and names of friends I hadn’t heard in years. All at once memories come flooding back; harmless laser pointers scaring army men, playing frisbee with a happy little dog, spending time racing in go-karts at (the long since gone) Speedway.

And I realize, maybe it is a little bit about me. He was like an uncle, not so different from my actual uncle, and I’ve always wondered what took him away and where he went. It makes me wonder where I’ll be in ten or twenty years, forging friendships and renewing old bonds using Facebook, or the newest creation of the day. Will lost friends find me, or will they just dissolve?

I hear them talking, and I can’t help but smile as they discuss planning a dinner date for the lot of us. Apparently, Renee’s getting married soon.

I hope I get to meet his wife.

So what’s the point, you may find yourself asking. This “blog” sounds more like a “brag” to me, you might say. Well, I hope you don’t. I hope you’ll find yourself returning to the blog on a regular basis, eager for glimpses into my, while not always exciting, life. It can’t be peaches and cream all the time, I’m sure. At one point we all have to leave our little pre-real world bubbles and venture out, putting ourselves out to the mercy of the world and hoping for a little compassion in return. If you’re a college student yourself, or even younger, maybe you can learn from my mistakes. And if I don’t make any, you can learn from my triumphs to avoid your own. If you’re older than I am, drop by to offer advice and salutations, or just live vicariously through my eyes if you prefer.

Whatever the case may be, I lay myself at the mercy of the internet.

Perhaps I’ll get a little compassion in return.

Mark