Ron Rogers and I dated in high school for, roughly estimated, 1 minute. Our friendship has lasted many decades longer than that, and he is one of the high school friends I talk to with some regularity.

And in the crazy way that life works, we now live in the same state — he has been in Spokane for more than a decade. After I got the job in Seattle, I called him and said, “we should see each other more than every decade or so when you are on the east coast. We’re so certain about it, in fact, that we are moving to Washington.”  We haven’t connected in person yet, but it’s nice to know someone just over the mountains …

Ron has helped me across many of life’s crossroads. In 2006, I biked across the country from Seattle to Washington, D.C. (leaving for this trip was the last time I was in Seattle until I interviewed for the job here). Three days into the trip, as we approached Spokane, on a wide, clear sunny day on a wide, clear road, a driver turned around to talk to her infant, and killed one of the cyclists on our ride.

When we learned of the tragedy, as a group, a few miles later, we didn’t know what to do and many of us just kept pedaling, stunned and shocked, until we arrived in Spokane. We met as a group, and then I gratefully retreated to Ron’s house. Having the distance to talk through it with Ron and his then-girlfriend, now-wife Tammy was a saving grace for me — floating in their pool, playing with their dogs, eating out with them. After a rest day in Spokane, I reluctantly left to start the journey again.

I’m pretty certain Ron and I broke up after 4 minutes, but we did manage to get a picture … ah, high school. Believe it or not, we were at the terribly named Blue Ball.

Ron has also shaped my life in other ways over the years. When, near the end of college,  I debated being an editor or a flight attendant, Ron very frankly said, “Good question, Liza. Do you want to be an editor or a WAITRESS. IN. THE. SKY.?” Asked that way, the choice seemed much clearer, and I went the editor route.

But it’s not all sage advice and words of wisdom. Ron is also the person who made me go to see Dumb and Dumber in college, and then ruined the perfectly good Air Force One (while he was serving in the Air Force) by LOUDLY proclaiming: “A PLANE doesn’t DRIVE like that” at several points during the movie. AND, in his biggest failing, he didn’t recognize the incomparable beauty of my Daffy Duck impression in high school.

After I started dating Jeff and Ron started dating Amy, we would sometimes double date, or go out together in a larger group. One of these outings involved gathering at my house and playing charades. I am very competitive, and find those group games high pressure. My team wanted to win, and I drew the card: Daffy Duck.

In a panic, with the timer running, I realized that I could BE Daffy Duck. I squatted down, started waving my back end from side to side while holding my two hands in front of my mouth like a (very clear to my mind) beak. I waddled around the room, making a quacking gesture (but not sound) growing more and more impatient with their ignorance in the face of my OBVIOUS cues. We didn’t win. Both teams were laughing too hard to even guess — and that image has stayed so strong with Ron over the years that when a new AFLAC ad came out recently he texted me: “They are doing your impression!”

Not only was he right — but it was CLEAR to me that they were imitating Daffy, and I’m STILL irritated that he didn’t guess.

A friend like Ron, one who laughs with me and talks frankly to me and shares stories with me, is a large part of my hope and belief in the world. Thanks, Ron.