Friendship: Sally and I are great friends, though it’s hard to understand why. We have so little in common

by Rose Madeline Mula

Sally and I are great friends, though it’s hard to understand why. We have so little in common.

Sally is happiest when she’s behind the wheel of her car. Her idea of a good time is a long ride, which is my idea of torture.

“Let’s go to lunch,” she’ll say.

Why not? Sounds good to me. Next thing I know we’re heading to a mountain-top inn 120 miles from home. I was thinking more in terms of that new sandwich shop on the next block.

August Macke painting, Two Women at Milliner’s Shop; Museum Folkwang, Wikimedia Commons

She loves to listen to music while driving — oldies, new age — whatever. Talk radio is my choice (except for commentators who don’t share my political views!).

And guess who else disagrees with my politics? That’s right. Sally.

I hate to shop. She loves it. She swears she doesn’t, but a “Sale” or “Outlets” sign draws her car like a magnet.

I enjoy almost all movies and the theater indiscriminately. Sally doesn’t. I think I know why. She can’t abide sitting in one spot for a couple of hours — time that could be spent aimlessly driving somewhere.

Having grown up with two brothers, Sally is a sports fan. She loves to watch baseball, football, hockey, basketball, track, NASCAR racing — anything but figure skating. Can you guess which is the only sport I (a sibling-deprived child) enjoy watching? Yep, I love those spins … jumps … axles … lutzes … salchows … I can’t tell one from the other, but I find them all mesmerizing.

When Sally watches sports — or anything — on TV, she constantly surfs from channel to channel. Drives me crazy! Pick a show and keep it there, for heaven’s sake! I have to take a Dramamine before watching television at her house.

We do both enjoy travel and have taken many trips together. I prefer a fixed itinerary. Not Sally, of course. She abhors being tied to a particular schedule. And while I much prefer to fly to a destination more than a few hundred miles away, Sally would rather drive — again, the schedule phobia, and also because her car has a huge trunk which she can pack with every article of clothing she has owned since college and still have room for all the treasures she’ll buy along the way. I’m happier with having to keep track of only what will fit in one small suitcase; and since there’s no room to spare (and since I’m basically a tightwad), I’m better able to resist any impulsive purchases that I know I’ll regret when I return home.

Unlike most of our other friends, Sally and I do have a love of gadgets in common — especially electronic thing-a-ma-jigs. We’ve both had computers since floppy disks actually were floppy (remember those?) and can spend hours on the phone trying to help each other when we can’t figure out how to make our PCs do what we want them to.