Published: June 12, 2009 09:57 am      

It doesn’t take big moments to make best friends

Cherry Coke and Oreo cookies wouldn’t normally be considered a meal.

Seaweed doesn’t typically inspire relief.

A put-on accent shouldn’t be that entertaining. And, a silly joke about my ability to act as a stud finder in the absence of the real construction instrument isn’t really terribly funny.

Yet, as I in my mind’s photo album, these moments are among the most-precious pictures I saw as National Best Friends Day made headlines this week.

They are the instants that didn’t seem to signify anything at all and wound up meaning the world between friendly hearts.

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The Cherry Coke and Oreo menu is a tradition that began way back in the summer of 1999. As girlfriends packed up and headed for the beach to celebrate my graduation and their summer freedom, an impromptu stop at the grocery store brought home a bag of cookies and several cans of the sweet soda.

The beach was beautiful and our week wonderful. Angel, Wendy and I spent hours basking in the warm rays, watching the surf roll over sandy toes and shopping for things we would never need and rarely wear.

At night, we scarfed down so many cookies we had to make a return trip to the nearby grocer. That time, we stocked up on the doublestuff variety to feed our cravings as we played cards, gossiped about movie stars we’d never meet and talked late into the nights that never lasted long enough.

Since then, the cookies and Coke have become a must-have any time we take a nostalgic trip down memory lane, even though the group more often than not consists of whichever pair of us can tear ourselves away from work, family and life long enough to visit times when sunny days and sugary snacks made life sweet.

The seaweed solution arrived on another beach trip, this one with my cousin, Carla, her husband and parents. As the week progressed, Carla, Jason and I spent hours jumping waves in the ocean, where we tried to forget we could have been swimming with sharks during a summer when attacks made more headlines than normal.

For some reason, the things that lurked just beneath the foam of the waves were inexplicably attracted to Carla, who never failed to exclaim animatedly when something brushed her foot or swam past her leg.

She was a trooper, though. After every worried “aghhh,” “eeek,” or “whoa,” she comforted herself with one thought: “Whew! It’s only seaweed.”

Whether all of those things really were seaweed or not, thankfully, none of us will ever know. But the metaphor didn’t wash out with the tide.

The last time I visited, Carla still had a copy of the column I wrote in the wake of the trip, reminding myself not to stress over the small stuff. After all, it’s only seaweed, and that doesn’t hurt at all.

The accent belongs to my friend Dan, a manager in a business that caters to corporate customers in need of hotel, office or apartment furniture. Early in that career venture, he noticed one group of clients was more demanding than most, always seeking special bargains, commanding too much time and generally making most deals more difficult.

As a coping mechanism, Dan began calling me, pretending to be one of those customers. Now, years later, I still laugh at voicemail messages that still turn up occasionally, wishing me international blessings from an unfamiliar faith and unusual cooking tips.

And, the stud finder incident occurred one stormy night years ago, as I helped another friend hang pictures. He held the mementos in place, while I was stationed across the room to make sure everything stayed straight.

As he balanced precariously on one leg and stretched in order to properly position the picture and I was trapped between pieces of furniture moved to reach the walls, we realized the stud finder was likely in the garage.

That’s when he turned to me and said, “Couldn’t you just run your hand along the wall and tell me where it is?”

It shouldn’t have been so humorous, but it struck me as hilarious. Luckily, we were smart enough not to put my skills or accuracy to the test.

•••

Best Friends Day was designed to commemorate the people who make us laugh, dry our tears and not only know, but accept, all the imperfections we hide from the rest of the world. We’re better off because they’re in our lives.

We are who we are because they care.

There are a host of studies that show the health benefits of friends. They help us sleep better, stress less, avoid illness and live longer.

So, although my recipe for friendship looks to include some rather odd ingredients, I’m thankful for the product of combined cherry soda, cookies, seaweed and silliness. I’m even more thankful for the people who helped me put them together.

Tammie Toler is editor of the Princeton Times. Contact her at ttoler@ptonline.net.