Type 2 Personality

A few weeks ago I was working out at the local gym.

Thankfully that’s not news.

With all that I eat, I try to work out every day.

Or at least every other day.

The news here came after I was done working out.

As I got out of the shower and headed back into the locker room, I noticed that a man was looking at me.

I was wearing nothing but a towel.

And he was wearing nothing but a towel.

Not that there is anything wrong with that.

As I got closer, he said, “I’m sorry for staring at you.”

“But you look just like this guy I went to college with.”

So I asked what college.

He answered my college.

I said that’s my college.

He said, “Are you......?”

I said, “I am.”

And with that, the reunion tour was officially underway.

Now I live a thousand miles from where I went to school.

And school was a million miles ago.

Graduated 20 years back.

22, to be exact.

So to run into somebody from the glory days.

That’s a long-shot.

And being recognized by somebody who hasn’t seen you since before Milli knew Vanilli.

That’s a miracle.

And in this miracle I looked exactly as I did two decades ago?

While wearing just a towel?

Now that’s a real miracle.

And a compliment.

My new friend/old friend told me that he still keeps in touch with a handful of people from the way back machine.

Including an old fraternity brother of mine.

In fact, he said that brother was coming to town in a few weeks.

Which was this week.

“And we should all get together.”

So we did what all the kids do these days.

Friended each other on Facebook.

Is “friended” really a word?

Well within a couple of pings, we had a lunch date.

So yesterday, we grabbed a table for three at a local burger joint.

Within moments, we exchanged pictures of the eight kids we helped bring into this world.

And then we bragged about the swim team.

And the fishing trip.

And the dance competition.

You know all the things that proud papas talk about.

That lasted about two minutes.

The other 98 minutes were spent talking about the golden days.

Well not all 98 minutes.

And not all talking.

I spent the first five minutes listening.

Listening to my fraternity brother tell me how his life changed.

A few years ago.

But this change didn’t involve religion.

Or alcohol.

Or a hot girl.

It involved a test.

And this was one test that you can’t cheat on.

Apparently he had a cholesterol level that was slightly above the norm.

But he took it very seriously.

So seriously that he went in for regular updates.

Ironically it was a test with a positive change that brought in a negative result.

Those results showed the good news about his cholesterol going down.

But the bad news that he had developed diabetes.

A shocking development.

Considering he had no family history of the disease.

And he was far from obese.

He was not exactly the ideal candidate.

But even with the odds in his favor, he had joined a growing list.

A list that won’t stop growing.

In fact a study released in October by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention said that by 2050, one in three adults may have diabetes.

Fortunately/Amazingly, I can’t think of any of my adult friends who are diabetic.

So I was very interested in learning more.

But I had to walk that tight-rope between being supportive.

And being nosy.

He immediately showed me the syringe that he takes everywhere with him.

And he said that he can still eat pretty much everything he wants.

As long as he adds the right amount of insulin to the menu.

It’s just part of his new diet.

And his new life.

And he seems really ok with it.

Which made me feel really ok with it.