When I lived in Raleigh in the early 1990′s, I had a friend named Alex. Alex was a great guy. Had he grown up in the early 1960′s, Alex was the kind of guy who’s nickname would have been “moose.” He was a great friend, always taking the initiative to do thoughtful things for his friends and acquaintances. One time when my sister came to visit, Alex took her on a day-long tour of the city, showed her all the sights. He took her to the top of the most interesting building in town (the Holiday Inn) from which you could see most of downtown. He had never met her before. He just offered. Cool guy.
Alex drove what must have been a 15 year old Cadillac, a great big baby blue boat of a car. He drove us everywhere we needed to go, day and night. When things were going well and he was in the zone, Alex had a saying. He’d say, “man, I’m in like Flint.” “Yeah, man, we are in like Flint.” I pulled him aside one time and told him, “Alex, it’s ‘in like Flynn’–the saying refers to Errol Flynn, the actor, and his reputation as a swashbuckling ladies’ man.” Alex patiently replied, “no, Rob, it’s ‘in like Flint’. I don’t know what you’re talking about but the saying is ‘in like Flint’.”
Well, I never could convince him, and I soon realized that it didn’t matter. Alex really was in like Flint.
I lost touch with him over the years. The last time I saw Alex he had taken up door-to-door insurance sales. He came by my place and gave me a pitch on annuities. I politely declined, he went on his way, and I haven’t seen him since.
But Alex, wherever you are buddy, I hope you’re well. And by the way: last night, I was in like Flint.
Props to Alex! (and the caddy, wherever they may be….)