My Friend Kenneth
By Michael Woyan
Page 4
So we traded Jim for Todd that season, a
transaction of which for the short term worked
in our favor, but resulted in a losing proposition
over the long haul. For the months that the
three of us lived together the household
ran more smoothly and amicably than it ever
had. After Kenneth left, the circumstances
of which I'll detail later, Todd went from
being one of the best roommates I ever had
to positively the worst, becoming verbally
insolent and swindling me out of a not insignificant
sum of money not only once, but as an ultimate
insult, twice. I never saw any of it coming.
Todd was employed as a sales/service sort
of person at a well-known company when he
interviewed for the apartment, but was let
go shortly thereafter. After a summer of
frolic with his impertinent suburban friends
with cars, lawsuits and feigned affections
in pursuit of gratuitous sex on their minds,
he buddied up to Kenneth in hopes of having
him secure employment at the Exchange on
his behalf. Of course Kenneth was up to the
task and in fact, Todd, a man of moderate
though clever intelligence, was well suited
for the conscienceless endeavors of the Exchange,
and he did well there. These duplicitous
qualities were less welcome in my home and
of course, it all ended badly.
What I gleaned from Ken in these associations
was that unlike what we learn growing up
in America from cinematic westerns, people
are not nearly as good or as bad as they
seem; there's some of both in all of us.
Kenneth managed these and all his relationships
successfully. When his friends from the Exchange
would come to the apartment they were always
uncharacteristically polite, in distinct
contrast to the boorish relations of misplaced
testosterone familiar to their profession.
It occurred to me later that most of these
courtesies were probably of Kenneth's doing.
He demonstrated a compassion for Jim and
a bottom-line control of Todd that I could
not. In all cases, he demanded respect for
the things he respected, not the least of
which was his life. If we were to reduce
Kenneth's workings here to a least common
denominator, I'd have to say that just like
the old Temptations song said in quite a
different context, "where ever he set
his hat was his home." Thus, an imperceptible
transition took place from him staying at
my apartment to 219 West North Avenue becoming
our home.
This transformation, like all matters having
to do with Kenneth, occurred with resounding
punctuation. I had been working particularly
long hours managing the mortgage and contract
administration areas for a condominium developer
whose sales reach always exceeded it's operational
grasp, thus leaving my areas of responsibility
holding the proverbial bag of accountability
on an ongoing basis. The perpetual process
of making promises of appeasement and the
struggle to meet them was maddening. After
completing the most recent of several straight
twelve-hour days, I entered my kitchen to
find Kenneth and his old girlfriend Anne
Blackmore drinking beer and laughing in the
cadence of traditional Irish music. She engaged
me right away, but not without an ounce of
discomfort which passed over Ken's face.
After all, we weren't going to be one big
happy family; that's what I dictated from
the beginning and Ken had indeed respected
it.
This seemed to be of no concern to Anne however,
as she was extremely curious about who were
the characters in Kenneth's American life,
one that had taken him from a twelve year
career of security at Ireland's largest bank,
where she worked and they had originally
met. After two or three shared beverages,
I cracked, and suggested that we go somewhere
local for some social cocktailing. My thumb
no longer in the dam of friendship, a flood
of heady and often funny conversation followed
for many hours. An ancient evening of old
world feel, it was a discovery of commonality
of which I thought we only found in the best
of our boyhood camaraderies. Kenneth having
to rise at a considerably earlier hour for
work than I, left the job of entertaining
Anne to my charge, which proved to be a thoroughly
enjoyable endeavor. On a night of rare human
recognition, this was an act of trust that
was not lost on me. For the kinship that
followed in the years to come, I remain unmistakably
in Anne Blackmore's debt.
Kenneth and I got along famously in the flourishing
lounge scene on Chicago's near north side
in the months to come, with a generosity
of spirits, stories and laughter for everyone
near. It was like holding salon without the
pretense prohibitive to Middle American social
sensibilities. Being young men of some vitality,
one of our favorite pastimes, we would say,
was to engage in the appraisal of passing
ladies with the eye of a jeweler and the
conscience of a burglar.