Meet my friend D, a classy bloke

My friend D is an American by birth who was raised and schooled in England after his eighth year, or thereabouts. He speaks with a manly voice that is deep and calm, and sounds very English indeed. D is highly intelligent and well-educated, though I don't know what his IQ score would be if he were ever tested. He'd surely laugh at the idea of being tested in the first place.

When he grins big, it looks charmingly similar to the one in a certain photograph of his 8-year-old self, but with noticeably more whiskers.

D has traveled the world, hunted the Outback, sat at the feet of literary legends, written books of his own, sailed the seas, given countless interviews, owned very, very cool cars. He has done and seen things of which I've only dreamed. Among other worthy endeavors, he is now working in the film industry on some very impressive projects.

On his one trip to my hometown, when asked his dinner venue preference, his request for a cheeseburger surprised me.

"You can't get a decent cheeseburger in Britain," he explained.

On the surface, it would appear that D and I have little in common. I lost my dad to cancer when I was young, and as a lad he lost his mother to the same disease. Beyond that, the similarities seem sparse indeed.

It has been well over a decade since we met but over those years we have continued to correspond, fairly regularly, via e-mail. He has prayed for me and I for him, and we have shared many an e-laugh. I am receiving an education just by knowing him, although I would gladly give a kidney to zoom around Europe with D in one of his very cool cars, being regaled by his stories and having my vocabulary elevated by assimilation.

The occasion of our meeting was a short-lived creative project and there was really no apparent reason for us to keep in touch afterward. It begs the question: Why should a gentleman with such credentials, and with his fascinating history, bother with a bloke from my side of the tracks whose life accomplishments in comparison seem like child's play?

The fact that he nevertheless does so should tell you something else - something very significant - about my friend D.