Paul Feinberg and I were good friends at Ramapo High School, then we went our separate paths. Paul to Tulane. I to Hobart in the Finger Lakes region of central NY state.
I haven't seen Paul in 30 years.
Until this morning, when we biked 35 miles in the foothills and pretty countryside outside Frederick, Md.
I drove about 40 minutes from Ellicott City west to Frederick on I-70 and stopped at Paul's house. Paul is a pediatrician these days, but I recall Paul as my basketball backcourt mate on the Pomona Jewish Center Fightin' Macabees squad and also a cohort in good ol' Doc McCauley's English class at eighth period our senior year. Paul also advised me that the best way to learn classic rock was to listen to WNEW-FM in New York.
Funny how easy it is to fall back into friendly patterns -- even if there was a 30-year gap. We took about 15 minutes to bike out of Frederick and biked side-by-side for the next two hours chatting away about our lives in the past 30 years.
How did we re-connect? Facebook.
I hope we stay in touch. Paul has a friend who is a doctor for the Tampa Bay Lightning, we both have sisters in South Florida and, by sheer coincidence, both our mothers live in the same condo development in that New York City-home-away-from-home -- Boca Raton.
Paul is a terrific cyclist, hammering the hills today on his Trek 1200, a solid road bike.
I hope we share a few more miles on the road.
Whoa baby, how quaint is this? The wood-covered bridge outside Frederick.