So I really do promise that the change blogs are out there somewhere—I’d say in a holding pattern over Detroit—but I will get back to them eventually. I think I’ve reached a real writer’s block on that front, and honestly, I’m kind of tired of change. It’s inevitable, always is, but it’s not a subject I’m especially jazzed about at the moment.

 

That said, I had an interesting conversation recently—one of those accidental philosophical detours that starts with “pass the salt” and ends with “what is the meaning of friendship?” And let me tell you, the term “friend” is doing a lot of heavy lifting these days.

 

We throw it around like glitter at a kindergarten craft table. “My friend” is used to soften a blow, to add weight to an opinion, or just because “person I kinda know from spin class” doesn’t roll off the tongue. It’s social bubble wrap.

 

But in Germany—where I lived for four years—friendship is not taken so casually. Over there, calling someone your friend is serious business. It implies a long-term, mutual commitment. Emotional ride-or-die territory. A German “friend” is closer to what we might call “chosen family.”

 

Here in the U.S., we often reserve our deepest intimacy for romantic partners, treating platonic friendships like a bonus round. In Germany, both romantic and platonic relationships carry the same emotional weight. The word “friend” means something. It’s not a casual acquaintance or someone you tolerate at work events. It’s someone you’d help move a couch in July without air conditioning and not expect anything in return.

 

So how does this affect the price of tea in China? I’m getting there.

 

The truth is, real friendship takes effort. Emotional investment. Showing up. Giving without the scoreboard mentality. I’ve known plenty of people who kept score—who saw relationships as transactional. That’s not friendship. That’s a social barter system.

 

A true friend doesn’t need to talk to you every day, but when they do, you pick up right where you left off—no guilt, no awkwardness. They’re the ones who show up when life punches you in the throat, not just when things are Instagrammable.

 

Over the past few years, my circle has shrunk. Some folks I thought were headed into friend territory pulled away—because of my grief, my coping style, or just the messiness of life. That’s their right. But ghosting someone without explanation isn’t friendship. And using someone only when they’re flush with resources? That’s not friendship either—that’s freeloading.

 

Let me tell you about my best friend. When I met him, he was homeless. Living in a cave. Yes, a literal cave. Over the years, I helped him when I could. And two years ago, when my life imploded, it took one call and he dropped everything to be at my side. No debt ledger. No favors owed. Just, “Of course. That’s what friends do.”

 

So that’s what this has to do with the price of tea in China: real friendship isn’t about ROI. It’s about showing up. JFK’s famous line—“Ask not what your country can do for you…”—applies here too. If your first instinct in any relationship is “what can I get out of this,” you’re not ready to be in one.

 

We’ve become a culture of “me first,” and it’s exhausting. This chronic self-interest cheapens the human experience. And yes, before anyone drags out their Bible to argue against “wokeness,” maybe read the parts about loving your neighbor and helping the least among us.

 

If being kind makes me “woke,” fine. Slap it on a t-shirt.

 

Friendship, empathy, compassion—they’re not outdated. They’re essential. And frankly, neither your dog nor your mom would want you to be an asshole. Be the kind of person they’d be proud of.