The Pineapple Gazette was a podcast about the tv series Psych.
With Psych returning for the long-anticipated movie this December, I find myself looking back at my favourite comedy detective show with rather a lot of sentimental feelings. It is by no means original to draw a comparison between the series and friendships, particularly because the friendship between Shawn and Gus is the cement that glues the show together, but I forgive myself this once for my lack of originality in the spirit of rejoicing sentiment.
Friendship is an essential ingredient for a fulfilling life. It is hard to imagine for most to be without throughout their mortality. Fortunately, I should add! Some friendships last a lifetime without a hiccough, others burn out sooner or later. But there are those friendships who you thought you’d lost, but who found their way back – and those are the ones to treasure. You know what it is like to be without, after all!
As you may suspect, I’m writing with authority; I’ve had a friendship lost, and found.
When I was seventeen, I was searching for a room to rent in the city. After quite a few options which were never really it,
one night I rang the doorbell of what was to be my new home, for a
sighting. I’d understood on the phone that the landlord was a building
contractor who ran his business from the ground floor; the bedrooms
upstairs were the ones for rent.
The door was answered by Alexa, one of the two other renters already
occupying the dwelling. She told me she inhabited the room in the attic
with her beautiful black Labrador. Her welcoming friendliness
immediately struck me and I felt right at home before the landlord even
joined us to give me the tour of the house. I decided to take the 3 by 4
meters room on the spot; the contract was signed and I could move in as
soon as I liked.
It was in the following week, while I was painting my new room, that I met Charlotte who rented the room next to mine. Charlotte was as friendly as Alexa, yet a little aloof; she didn’t show her cards immediately, and she still is hard to read at times. Out of the three of us, she was the fun one who did not let a weekend pass by without attending at least one party! As soon as I moved in, the three of us bonded. Even though we were of quite different ages (Charlotte was 23 and Alexa was 35), we had a rough past and traumatic reasons for dropping our injured wings at this particular spot in common. The house became our place of healing.
It was not out of the ordinary for us to sit in the hallway on top of the stairs (which was covered with images of men we fancied), sharing deep conversations and cheerful laugher until well past the witching hour; more often than not we only met our cods when dawn was approaching. These late nighters weren’t that inconvenient for students such as Charlotte and I, but Alexa had a full-time job at a bank she didn’t want to lose, thus we pulled back on the fun. A bit.
We were as close the entire Psych cast and crew cramped in the Blueberry. I didn’t know friendship could be this close and comfortable. While we often joked that Alexa was my surrogate mom and Charlotte my sister, it really did feel that way for all three of us. We were a happy, dysfunctional family made out of a heavily depressive, a sex addict and an undiagnosed autistic female. Until Charlotte signed up to become an au-pair in England and left Alexa and me behind. Because we couldn’t bear to be joined by a stranger, Alexa rented Charlotte’s room too; a wise decision if only for her adult collection of furniture which desperately needed the expansion.
The following year Alexa and I grew even closer together, and when Charlotte returned home (within the month – much earlier than anticipated due to a bad experience with the family she was assigned to) and moved in with her boyfriend, our trio learnt to uphold the friendship with less frequent contact than we had been used to. Yet we managed perfectly; we went on girl-dates, took a trip abroad and generally did what girlfriends tend to do (if you’re a man reading this: no, not that).
Years passed and life happened. Alexa settled down in an apartment and Charlotte got married and had children. I moved around the country and lost myself. We didn’t meet that often anymore, sometimes a few years went by before we did, but each time it felt like old times again. Then 2010 appeared on the calendar. One day, out of shame and self-preservation, I’d lied to Alexa about a silly thing which caught up to me when she’d talked to Charlotte. I was informed by the latter that the former was angry and rather disappointed in me, which made me draw back completely into my innocuous cocoon. Since Alexa had never been one to initiate contact, she and I did not speak for years. I knew it wasn’t irresolvable; ego had set in and it convinced me that if she cared about me and wished to speak to me, she could pick up the phone herself. Which of course she never did. Stubborn cows are wiser than donkeys asleep.
When family is in pain, the past is forgotten. In the Summer of 2015 I got a call from Charlotte alerting me to Alexa’s diagnoses of a terrible disease.
As it turned out, Alexa did not even remember what our indifference had been about, but assured me I had always been on her mind, as she had been on mine. Charlotte and I went to see her and it was as if we’d never left that upstairs hallway; we talked straight up ‘till dawn. I’m most grateful to have Alexa back in my life; now that I’m older our friendship is even more substantial and we offer each other mutual support. I know that one day her affliction will rip her away, so until then I’m going to enjoy her love and beautiful character as much as possible.
Having had a beloved friend disappear from your life makes a reunion all the more sweet, and that’s merely one of the myriad of reason why I’m looking forward to watching the new adventure Shawn, Gus, Lassiter and Juliet will throw themselves into. The best we can do for our friends is love them. The best we can do for Psych is to be its best friend.
