Thou Shalt Love Thy Enemy

A few days ago, Allan's dog died.

For those of you who don't remember Allan, he's my archenemy. The Lex Luthor to my Superman. The Joker to my Batman. The Hillary Swank to my Annette Bening.

(Check out www.100dates100boys.blogspot.com if you need more background.)

I found out about Allan's dog via compulsive away message checking.

"R.I.P. Harry--the best dog in the world."

Now, I'm not a barbarian. I would never be glad to find out somebody's dog died. But in any situation involving Allan, it's normally incredibly difficult for me to rustle up anything more than indifference towards him.

But this time was different.

My goal with this whole experiment was to a be a better person. A good person. And good people don't hold grudges against someone whose just suffered the loss of a pet. (I'm a big-time animal-lover, and the mere thought of either one of my pets dying makes me shudder.) I was going to end this feud with Allan. No more cattiness, no more fighting, no more lighting his mailbox on fire...um....moving on--

I decided that life was simply too short to have enemies.

ADAM: Are you kidding? That's what life's all about!

My decision led to a conversation with Adam about life philosophies.

ADAM: My philosophy is--Everybody hates me anyway.
ME: That's your philosophy?
ADAM: Try it for yourself. Any time you're faced with a moral decision, think 'Everybody hates me anyway' and then make your choice. You'll find life becomes a lot less stressful.
ME: You find life is less stressful when you believe the entire world dislikes you?
ADAM: Think about it. When everybody likes you, you have certain standards and expectations to live up to, but when everybody hates you you can do whatever you want.
ME: Adam, have you been reading The Prince again?
ADAM: The point is, you've never gotten along with this kid. Why start now?
ME: Because I'm trying to be a good person. And good people are not universally hated.
ADAM: Yeah, but even superheros have a nemesis. Like the Olsen twins and the paparazzi.
ME: Did you just refer to the Olsen twins as superheroes?
ADAM: They were billionaires before they could eat solid food and now one's on Weeds and the other is pre-med. That kicks the s**t out of x-ray vision and super speed.

My plan to mend fences with Allan was simple. I was going to write him a sincere, compassionate e-mail where I would tell him how sorry I was to hear about Harry dying. Part of me wishes we still lived in a time where everyone did everything by letter. Everything seems so much more personal that way. Granted, I was sending him my condolences via aol, but nevertheless, it appeared so Victorian.

A few hours later I received a reply from Allan. I was expecting a "Thank you for your thoughts." What I got instead was a--

"F**k you. I hope you're happy. You've made my day that much worse."

Um...So much for Victorian sentiment.

ME: Maybe he thought I was making fun of him. Whenever you e-mail it's always difficult establishing a tone.
BETH: Maybe someone needs to put a cigarette out in his eye.

Beth was a little skittish after quitting smoking...again. Part of me really wanted to believe that the response from Allan had to do with my e-mail voice sounding like Hal from 2001.

ME: Beth, he's suffered a loss.
BETH: So have I! I've lost my favorite addiction!
ME: A tangible loss. I just feel so awful. He thinks I was digging at him.
BETH: Hey, at least you tried.
ME: Well, I'm going to have to think of something else.
BETH: Why is this so important to you? Lots of people like you. Who cares if this one person doesn't?
ME: Because it bothers me when people don't like me. Don't ask me why. It just does.
BETH: It's okay, honey. I feel the same way. I'm a total people pleaser.
ME: Is that why the last time someone asked you if you had a cigarette you told them you didn't speak English?
BETH: Que?
ME: It's pronounced like "Che."
BETH: S**t. Now my diction is going. I have to start smoking again.

While Beth planned on going back to an old friend, I planned on winning over my enemy. My Plan B? I was going to help Allan get past Harry dying with my own special arsenal--Self-Help literature.

My idea spawned from the fact that the library was having a book sale, which is always a good place for finding books on grieving and loss. Once people are done grieving, nobody wants to look at the books that helped them stop grieving anymore.

................

Yeah, I guess that sentence made sense.

While I was rummaging through boxes, I asked the library ladies what they thought of my predicament with Allan.

MARTHA: Tell him to stop being a #$%^. It's just a dog.
ME: Martha, how would you feel if one of your cats died?
MARTHA: Life wouldn't be worth living. But cats are different. They $%^& in the same place everyday.
ME: You're right. That makes them so much more worthy of love.

Millie was organizing the magazine section, while Daisy sorted the kids books.

DAISY: This book is filthy.
ME: It looks clean to me.
DAISY: No, I mean the content.
ME: What is it?
DAISY: Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.
ME: Daisy, that book hasn't been controversial since 1974.
MARTHA: You forget, Kevin. She was still old back then.
DAISY: What's it about?
MILLIE: It's about a girl's aunt coming to visit.
DAISY: Well, that sounds nice. Maybe I made a snap judgment.

While Daisy learned about that time of the month from Judy Blume, I asked about methods of getting past a loved one dying. I thought maybe I could go to Allan with some heartfelt suggestions from the wiser generation.

DAISY: When my dog Lily died, I was devastated.
ME: And what helped you move on from that?
DAISY: My husband bought me another dog that looked like just her.
ME: But...I mean...that's not really Lily. That was another dog.
DAISY: Yeah, but it looked just like her so...you know...It was pretty much the same thing.
ME: Uh...huh.

The thought of buying Allan another dog crossed my mind, but golden retrievers can be a little pricey, plus I was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to keep one at his apartment.

MILLIE: If you really want to extend the olive branch to this guy, why not just call him so he can clearly hear that your intentions are pure?
ME: I just get so nervous when it comes to talking over the phone.
DAISY: Not only that, why would he want to give this guy an olive branch? Won't that just make him look strange? Or is that what you people do when one of your pets dies? You know, the boys who like boys people?
ME: Yes, Daisy. Whenever a homosexual experiences a loss, we bring tree branches and dance the mambo to show our grief.
DAISY: Really?
MARTHA: Will someone find her a jigsaw puzzle to put together, please?

When I finally got up the nerve to call Allan, he wasn't answering his phone. I knew our feud had been fiery in the past, but I didn't think he was holding this much of a grudge against me.

Another part of me realized that what Allan was going through had nothing to do with me, and maybe I was being selfish by trying to force him into a truce at this point in time. Even with that in mind, I was still really troubled that night at family dinner.

MOM: What's the matter? Don't you like your American chop suey?
ME: First of all, I'm almost positive you don't make American chop suey with ketchup. Second of all, I just have a lot on my mind.
ROGER: What's the problem, Kev?

That's my stepdad, Roger. He's a great guy. Very open-minded and incredibly rational. I figured if anyone would be a good guy to bounce my problem off of it would be him.

ME: Roger, I really want this person to forgive me, but I'm not sure what to do to make that happen.
DANNY: GTTB.
ME: Huh?
DANNY: Go to the Bible.
RORY: Oh Christ.
MOM: Rory!
RORY: What? Kevin says it all the time!

My mother glared at me.

MOM: See what you start?

This is what I get for letting my little brother read my blogs about gay dating just so he can look cool at school in front of the pre-teen hag set.

ME: I'm trying to have a conversation with my stepfather right now. If we could put the crazy on hold. I can't tell Allan to go to the Bible.
MOM: This is about Allan? Then tell him to go to Hell.
ME: Mom, his dog died.
MOM: So the poison worked?
ME and DANNY: MOM!
RORY: And she wonders where I get it from.

I smirked at my mother.

ME: You see what you start?

Roger raised his hands to indicate he had something to say. I'm not sure how he got himself into this family, but he doesn't yell...ever. It's incredibly uncomfortable.

ROGER: Kevin, you can't force someone to forgive you. And forgiveness should come with no strings attached--including your own personal relief at being forgiven.
ME: You're right, Roger. I just can't stand knowing there's nothing I can do to resolve a situation.
DANNY: Take comfort in knowing that if he doesn't forgive you he's sinning against God.
RORY: Because that's something you can take to the bank along with the Invisible Man and Santa Clause.
DANNY: Mom, Rory's mocking my belief system again.
MOM: Honey, you want to be religious, expect to be ridiculed.
RORY: Damn straight.
MOM: And Rory, the ridiculing is going to cost you. You're doing the dishes and you're coming to church with me and your brother next week.
DANNY: I'm not sure he can step inside the place without turning into ash.
ME: Hey, has anyone ever held a grudge against you, Mom?

The phone rang. Mom got up to get it.

MOM: Kevin, grudges are pointless and petty. Only small people hold grudges.

She answered the phone.

MOM: What? No. Forget it. Please, I'll hate you until I die. Kevin, it's your father.

I took the phone.

ME: Hey Dad.
DAD: I heard about the dog.
ME: How?
DAD: Your brother told me.
ME: Which one?
DAD: The crazy one.
ME: I'm going to need you to be more specific.
DAD: The one I slip a twenty to whenever I see him.

I held my hand over the mouthpiece.

ME: Rory, please stop giving my Dad information about my personal life.
RORY: And watch the twenties stop? I don't think so.
MOM: You're coming to church the week after next week, too.
DANNY: You're only punishing me by doing that, you know.

I could hear my Dad's voice take on a firm tone.

DAD: Why are you trying to get this guy's forgiveness? Have a little pride.
ME: You know, I would hope that if anything awful happened to anyone I cared about, everyone would have at least a little sympathy for me.
DAD: Kevin, you want sympathy? It's right before 'stupid' in the dictionary.
ME: That's not true, but continue your thought, Dad.
DAD: All I'm saying is that your goal in life shouldn't be to make people like you. It should be to make people respect you. And when people respect you they're not always going to like you, and that doesn't matter. You think everybody like Condi?
ME: Do you mean Condoleeza Rice or Ghandi?
DAD: The Indian one.
ME: Ghandi, okay. I can't wait to hear this one.
DAD: Lots of people hated him, but now he's revered in history as being a great man. Any person worth anything is going to piss people off at some point in their life.
ME: Sort of like the Dixie Chicks?
DAD: Oh, are they still around? I hate them!

Usually after family dinner, I need a little decompression time. I went to Coffee Exchange to read the new Khaled Hosseini book when who should walk in--thank you Rhode Island for your tricky ways--but Allan.

He saw me and immediately walked out of the place. I dropped A Thousand Splendid Suns and ran after him. I caught up with him halfway up Wickenden street.

ME: Allan, hold up!
ALLAN: I wish I had something I could throw back at you to slow you down!
ME: I have some stuff in my pocket that might work.
ALLAN: I just want to be left alone!
ME: Okay, okay, Greta Garbo.
ALLAN: That's not who said that.
ME: I'm not trying to make you mad. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I was that you took my 'I'm sorry' for something other than a genuine 'I'm sorry.'
ALLAN: I knew it was genuine.
ME: What?

He stopped and turned around.

ALLAN: I said I knew it was genuine.
ME: Then why were you so mean when you wrote back?
ALLAN: Because I don't need your f**king pity, Kevin. I have friends and family to make me feel better when life sucks. So just leave me alone.

With that, he turned and walked off, and this time I didn't follow him.

CARLY: He'll never work in this town again.
ME: Because that's a real punishment.

Carly was the first one I called after my altercation with Allan. Lately I was finding myself doing something I've never done before--

Defending Allan.

ME: He's in a lot of pain. It was evident all over his face.
CARLY: You could see his face while he was running away from you?
ME: I could sense it. It was more a feeling, I guess--
CARLY: Kevin, let Mr. McWhiny Pants grieve all he wants for little Hugo--
ME: Harry.
CARLY: Whatever. He needs to learn to accept forgiveness into his life or risk people thinking he excretes mucus from various parts of his body.
ME: Carly, don't bother blackballing him.
CARLY: Why not? I've already gotten a focus group together to figure out which rumors would do the most damage.
ME: Don't bother because anything awful that can be done to Allan has already been done by me. So just don't worry about it.
CARLY: Fine, but if you ever want to start thinking outside the box in regards to character assassination give me a call.
ME: Will do.

Slowly it was beginning to dawn on me. Why should Allan want to mend things with me? We'd done some horrible things to each other. Unforgivable things. We'd said things that could never be taken back. At times our hatred for each other was almost biblical. So why should he just put everything to rest now because I wanted to?

The next day I was checking away messages and this was what came up when I checked on Allan's.

"Burying Harry after work today at my Mom's. Come pay your respects if you like."

I thought I'd give this one more shot. I typed in:

"I don't mean to bug you, but if you wouldn't mind me being there, I'd like to go."

And a few minutes later I got back:

"Okay. It'll be at five."

It seemed like my persistence might have actually paid off, but now what was I going to do? Was this going to be an actual funeral? I'm awful at funerals. I never know what to say, and for the most part I avoid them like the plague. But this was going to be for a dog. Was there going to be a viewing beforehand? Was someone going to sing? What do you sing for a dog?

JOEY: Probably something from All Dogs Go to Heaven.
ME: You mean like 'You Can't Keep a Good Dog Down'?

Meet my friend Joey. He's the sweetest guy I know. Very caring and considerate. He's also one of those people who everybody likes, so I figured it was a good idea to ask him how I should conduct myself at the funeral.

JOEY: Bring doggie snacks.
ME: But Harry's dead, Joey.
JOEY: Yeah, so? You should bury him with things he loved in life.
ME: I don't know what he loved though.
JOEY: What about bacon? Every dog loves bacon.
ME: Yeah, but I don't think Allan would want to bury his dog with raw bacon.
JOEY: You could cook it.
ME: I'm sure Allan wants this event to be as somber as possible.
JOEY: Are you going to wear black?
ME: Of course I am. I'm Portuguese.
JOEY: I mean, to show mourning.
ME: Yeah, that too.

The funeral was in Allan's Mom's backyard. When I arrived, Harry was already buried. The dirt was fresh over his grave. Allan was sitting on the spot just looking straight ahead. I approached him and wondered if I had missed the whole affair.

ME: I'm sorry. I thought you said five.
ALLAN: I did.
ME: So...where's everyone else?
ALLAN: I guess nobody actually wanted to go to a dog funeral.
ME: I'm sorry, Allan.
ALLAN: How ironic. With all my friends, the person who showed up today is the one person I don't get along with at all.
ME: I was hoping we could change that.
ALLAN: Kevin, it's not that I don't want to be your buddy. It's just that very few things in my life make sense anymore, and the one thing that does is that you and I don't get along. For some reason, that gives me comfort. No, more than that, it gives me a drive. I have an opposite. I have someone I want to be better than in life. For some reason, you and I always going at each other has made my life better. It keeps things balanced.

He stood up and looked down at the grave.

ALLAN: Harry was good for that, too.

I took out a piece of paper I had in my pocket.

ME: I printed this. It's from one of my favorite podcasts--This I Believe, on NPR. It's about dogs. I thought you might want to hear it.
ALLAN: Sure. You can read it if you want.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=14415923

At the end, Allan looked pretty touched. I was glad that maybe something I had done in the past few days wasn't a complete failure.

He didn't seem to know what to say at first, then put his hand on my shoulder and said:

ALLAN: I was making burgers inside. Do you want to come have one?
ME: Sure.

Hey, it's a step in the right direction, right?

JEFF: I love This I Believe! I wrote an entry for them once about my belief in good hygiene before a first date, but I don't think the metaphor was expressed well enough.
UNCLE WILL: Yeah, deodorant on NPR can be a tough sell.

I was bouncing Allan's reason for keeping me as his enemy off Uncle Will and Jeff while they prepped for a dinner party at their house.

UNCLE WILL: I can understand what Allan is saying. Every guy needs someone he can judge himself against. That's how he knows how far he's come.
ME: What about just having a sense of personal accomplishment? Why do you need to be better than a specific person?
JEFF: It's just guys for you, Kevin. We're all so competitive. Remember when I entered that blueberry pie contest last year? I was a total madman.
UNCLE WILL: He still hasn't forgiven Grandma for not reading him her recipe right over the phone.
JEFF: She said TWO CUPS! 'Two' and 'four' sound nothing alike!
ME: I just don't see why you someone would need to watch someone else fail in order to feel better about their successes.
UNCLE WILL: You do live in America, right, Kev?

While I was eating burgers with Allan, we talked about old times. And surprisingly, a lot of those times weren't so bad. The funny thing is, as I was sitting there, I realized that I know more about Allan than I do some of my really good friends. How is that possible?

ALLAN: It's because you make an effort to learn all about your enemies. You don't really try that hard with your friends.
ME: Yeah, I guess you're right. There's a lesson in there somewhere, but I have a feeling it translates into both of us being lousy friends.
ALLAN: Just admit it, Kevin. Having me in your life has been a lot of fun, and it's because of the volatile relationship we've had.
ME: It's made life more interesting, I'll give you that.
ALLAN: It's just funny to me that you always want life to be like a tv show, yet in the best tv shows there's never a moment where the two enemies are sitting together eating hamburgers after attending a pet's funeral.

Maybe he was right. But then again, part of me could see the camera panning away from the two young men. One still glancing down every now again and at a dish reading 'Harry' that was never going to be used again, and the other reaching across the table to hand the first the ketchup.

Ceasefires may not make good tv, but they're necessary all the same.