Because I must, I accept that there are people who don’t care too much about those they bump into on the journey. They just want to enjoy a beer or a joint, go to the game or watch it on the box, float through a life that is difficult enough already, and justify any companion on this haphazard voyage: “Well, he makes me laugh.”

That’s enough. They don’t ask too much of friends. A relative, a buddy, what’s the difference? So long as it’s reasonable fun to drift in his company.

And then there are the others, maniac souls,…