An Invitation to "Phone a Friend"

Earlier today, I was visiting on the phone with my friend, Gene, who turns 99 years old next month. He and I've known each other my entire life, since he was first a friend of my parents. Gene is one of those rare people who can walk into a room full of complete strangers and leave with a dozen new acquaintances. I marvel at that ability—I certainly can't do it.

During our conversation, he shared a new label I hadn't heard before, but one that rings true the older I get: in life, our relationships tend to fall into two categories—friends and "friendlys." He picked up that idea from one of his own friends, Topper Long.

At first glance, friends and friendlys might look similar. Both are people we know, interact with, and enjoy being around. But as Gene explained, there's a clear difference. "Friendlys" are the people we chat with at church, work, or a neighborhood gathering. The conversations are pleasant but remain surface-level. They rarely extend beyond the context in which we see them, and they seldom call to check on us or seek us out beyond that setting.

Friends, on the other hand, are something altogether different. They are dependable and accessible. They call when they haven't heard from us in a while. They show up in the hard times, not just the fun ones. They listen without judgment. They make space for vulnerability and heart-to-heart conversations. And when life gets messy—as it inevitably does—they are the ones who step forward, not back.

Here's the problem: I'm convinced many of us walk around under the illusion that we have lots of friends, when in truth what we really have is a network of friendlys.

I once worked with a man several years older than me who frequently namedropped various "friends" he had in prominent positions. Early on, I probably thought, "He sure has a lot of friends!" But over time I began to realize he simply had a lot of acquaintances.

Both friends and friendlys play important roles in our lives, but confusing the two can leave us without the deeper connections we truly need.

That's where Gene's wisdom struck me. Maybe it's time to take stock. To pause and ask: Who are our true friends—the ones we can count on and who can count on us? And which of those numerous relationships, though positive, are more "friendly" than truly friendship?

In marketing, there's a practice called "market segmentation," where companies identify distinct groups of customers and tailor their approaches to each based on the group's unique needs. Businesses know not to treat every customer the same, because not every customer is equally valuable or interested in longer-term engagement.

Perhaps it's time we apply that same principle to our relationships—not to be calculating, but to be wise stewards of our limited time and energy. Friendships require cultivation, and the truth is we can't nurture all relationships equally.

That doesn't mean we ignore or undervalue the "friendlys" in our lives. Those lighter connections add joy, variety, and sometimes even surprise us by deepening over time. But we should be clear-eyed about the differences. It's the handful of true friends who add the deepest meaning and provide the truest support in life's unpredictable seasons.

C.S. Lewis once wrote: "Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival."

Try taking a moment this week to write down the names of the people you consider friends versus those who are more "friendlys." Reflect on whether each of your true friends knows you deeply, can rely on you, and vice versa. Identify one small action you can take this week to nurture one of these deeper friendships—call them, check in, or offer support. I'm trying to do a better job at this as I continue to age. Small intentional acts keep friendships alive and meaningful.

Friendlys may brighten our days, but true friends walk with us through the nights. Most of us need to be doing more to cultivate those true friendships.