San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
MAKING FRIENDS FOR LIFE
Older S.A. men find regular gatherings boost their mental, physical well-being
An apocryphal story about male friendship: Guy comes home from watching the game at a friend’s house. Wife asks, “How’d it go?” “Fine,” he says. “Did he tell you they’re getting a divorce?” “Uh, no.”
A more hopeful alternative to these stereotypically stoic and emotionally closed-off males was on view one morning recently at the Denny’s on Bitters Road just off U.S. 281. There, eight or so men rolled in for their regular Saturday breakfast group.
While drinking bottomless cups of coffee refilled by the patient waitstaff, the self-proclaimed old coots (most are on the far side of 50) displayed the kind of easygoing conviviality that comes from years of breaking bread — whole wheat — with one another.
Several of the group, including legendary broadcaster Gary DeLaune, worked in sports, so the stories flow freely.
They tease one another incessantly, with New Jersey transplant Steven Alagona ripe for ribbing, especially for his accent. “You damn New Joisey people,” said one. “Coming down here with your New Joisey ways. And did you have to bring your real estate taxes with you?”
These guys aren’t the only men who set their clocks by their weekly get-together. At diners, pancake houses and the occasional barbecue joint across town, groups of men meet regularly to shoot the breeze and chew the fat, literally and figuratively.
And over time they forge deep friendships beyond the coffee and camaraderie, a brotherhood that does them a world of good. Experts say having friends — real, true friends —
benefits a man’s health and wellbeing physically, mentally and emotionally.
“It’s my therapy,” said DeLaune, an original member of the Denny’s brigade. “Before my wife, Jo, died four years ago, she’d tell me every Saturday morning, ‘You’ve got to get out and go see the coots. It’s good for you.’ ”
Jo DeLaune was more right than she knew. In a 2002 study published in the American Journal of Epidemiology, for example, researchers found that men without strong social ties (i.e., friends) were 20 percent more likely than those who did have friends to die over the next 10 years due to accidents, suicide and heart disease, regardless of other risk factors.
This is not to say that friends are important only to men. Other studies have tied social isolation to poor health outcomes in women, too. It’s just that men often have more difficulty developing friendships.
A poll released in May by the Survey Center on American Life found that the number of men who said they have “no close friends” has quadrupled since 1990, skyrocketing from just 3 percent to 15 percent in that time. By comparison, only 10 percent of women said they were friendless.
Psychotherapist Robert Garfield, author of “Breaking the Male Code: Unlocking the Power of Friendship,” identifies two styles of male friendship: shoulder-to-shoulder and face-to-face.
The first he describes as men doing things together: fixing cars, bowling, working out. While beneficial, these often are the kinds of friendships where guys can spend all day watching football without ever mentioning that one of their marriages is crumbling.
Face-to-face friendships, on the other hand, are more emotionally intimate and involve being open with one another about feelings, experiences, fears and other, deeper matters. Having a safe space to be this emotionally open is good for a man’s overall health and just the type of friendship long-term meeting groups can engender.
Men don’t usually start these groups intending to improve their health, however. Often it’s for some other purpose, like a Bible study or to discuss business interests. But with the passage of time, real friendships start to blossom.
On Friday mornings at Twin Sisters Bakers & Cafe on North New Braunfels Avenue since 1999, Ed Cross has been meeting with a group of four to seven men who are all part of the same investment group.
“Most of us have jobs, and this time together gives us a quiet opportunity to brainstorm and strategize,” said Cross, who describes himself as a semiretired commercial real estate broker and investor. “Eventually, that part became secondary. These days we talk as much about our wives, kids and personal lives as we do about business.”
He added that through the years, their investments have done rather well, something he credits to the cohesion that has grown out of their friendships.
Some groups are borne out of adversity. Juan Aguilar is a former cocaine addict who kicked the habit 25 years ago after becoming involved with Destiny Community Church on Cupples Road. Now, on Monday evenings over doughnuts and coffee at his South Side home, he hosts a rotating group of men who are also struggling with addiction.
“We talk, we pray, we laugh,” he said. “We help each other get through another day. I think that, because we’re all men, we’re able to open up more than we would in a mixed group.”
But they do more outside the group, socializing simply because they enjoy one another’s company. One member of the group, Ozzy Chavez, recently invited the guys to his home to celebrate his daughter’s birthday.
“There was a waterslide and a piñata,” said Aguilar, who runs a landscaping business. “It means a lot to get to become friends with these guys. When I see these men through God, I tell you, it takes me to another level.”
Meeting over a meal gives men the opportunity to develop friendships in a less stressful setting than, say, at work, in the gym or on the golf course, according to Geoffrey Greif, a professor at the University of Maryland School of Social Work and author of “Buddy System: Understanding Male Friendships.”
“It lets men interact as a group instead of one-to-one,” Greif explained. “For many men, that’s less intimidating, especially at the beginning.”
Being in a group also gives them the freedom to discuss topics many may find it difficult to talk about, such as their health.
When Emmett Mitchell was diagnosed with cancer in 2018, he leaned on his lunch friends, Bob Russo, John Estes and David Smith, for support. For years, the four have met Monday afternoons at Smokey Mo’s BBQ on Bulverde Road.
“It meant a lot to me to know that as I was going through cancer treatment, I could talk to these brothers about the fears I had, the things I was going through,” he said. “Their opinions were important to me.”
“Sure, he talked to us,” Estes interjected good-naturedly. “He just didn’t listen to us.”
As many of the men in these San Antonio groups have discovered, friendships are solidified by sharing the good fortunes and the tragedies of life together.
“We’ve seen it all: kids, grandkids, marriages,” said Richard Oliver, an original member of the Denny’s group. “We’ve lost dear friends who were regulars, like (legendary disc jockey) Bruce Hathaway and Eddie Morris, the Spurs on-site radio engineer.”
After Hathaway died, Oliver recalled, someone made a large cardboard cutout of him that they put on a chair so he could continue to enjoy breakfast with the group.
“Bruce would have loved it,” said Oliver, director of partner and community relations at Visit San Antonio.
Sometimes, something larger may also arise from these groups. The men Dwayne Robinson meets with Fridays after work at Tony G’s Soul Food on the East Side all have a similar commitment to improving their community. This led them to form the Denver Heights Business Group to help improve the physical, mental and emotional health of the community, according to Robinson, 55, the Bexar County Census 2020 liaison.
But friendships have also formed among these guys. Before Henry Boone recently moved to Minneapolis, where he is director of procurement for Lifetime Fitness, he and Robinson passed the ultimate friendship test when Robinson helped Boone move his mother to Florida. Before the pandemic, the two also traveled extensively together, visiting Montego Bay in Jamaica, Medellín, Colombia, and, in 2020, Rio de Janeiro for Carnaval, a trip Boone called “beyond amazing.”
Just like the opportunity to make a true friendship later in life.