So Jack and I are headed home from the Seinfeld show and we reach my car in the Peoria Civic Center parking garage. It reminds me of the coldest moment I can remember... literally running with Dena and two friends of ours through that same parking garage to find blessed warmth after a Peoria Rivermen hockey game.
What's the coldest you've ever been? I ask.
Jack thinks for a moment and then says that it was following an Osmond concert. His wife wanted to wait around for a while for some celebrity glimpsing. Coatless, Jack agreed.
Ah, that would be cold, I'm thinking.
So they waited, and waited, and waited some more. Eventually, they head back toward the car. Only, they don't remember where they parked it. By now his body is shaking uncontrollably, and in desperation they flag down a person in a warm car.
"H-h-h-p-p-p..." he can only stammer, as the good Samaritan agrees and helps them out.
Once in their car, they get as far as one exit on the expressway before getting off and taking him to the emergency room.
You see, he'd contracted hypothermia.
I've written before in these pages that relationships are like bank accounts, where people make deposits of love and withdrawals of selfishness. By those standards, Jack's always been one of the richest guys I know. We should all be so lucky to have friends like him as "customers."
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