Finding a Good Man

Here's to the liars and the cheaters and the cold mistreaters;
To the Momma's boys who can't make a stand.
Here's to the superficial players;
The "I love ya" too-soon-sayers;
If you hear me girls, raise your hand:
Let's have a toast:
Here's to findin' a good man.

- Chorus to Findin’ A Good Man
Danielle Peck, Country Singer

Lest you believe all my adolescent years were spent huddled in my basement crying, I thought I should tell you about the one good “man” (boy, really) I met when I was 12.

His name was Tony Randall (not the Tony Randall from the Odd Couple – obviously). We met at Camp Joy’s Drama/Music Camp the summer before I entered 7th grade.

I had been to other Christian summer camps and hated all of them - the forced competition in stupid games, the lack of personal hygiene, and the CULTIC focus on “chapel” three times a day. Honestly, how can you ask kids to go to chapel THREE TIMES A DAY?

Anyway, this year, Camp Joy was offering a music/drama camp. Music campers who attended would go to a local college during the day and study music (let’s call it what it was – Band Camp) and do “normal” camp activities at night, while drama campers would spend the day doing dramatic exercises and practicing a play to be put on at the end of the week.

I wanted in! My parents were so relieved I wasn’t giving up on camp altogether that they eagerly signed me up.

When I got to camp, I was happy to find it was exactly what had been promised. No stupid beach ball games or camp cheers. My fellow campers were more like me – mature kids who wanted to have fun AND learn something at the same time. I was in heaven.

I was coming off my second year with Josh and conditioned to not being popular. So, I was pleasantly surprised when I immediately made friends with a sweet, frizzy-haired girl name Alyssa. She lived in Arlington Heights and had come to camp to bond with her French horn.

Alyssa and I explored the camp together that first night. While we were down at the river, she introduced me to a tall, blond-haired boy from her hometown. I was automatically distrustful of boys my own age, but Tony’s kind smile and outreached hand put me at ease. I shyly shook his hand and listened to him and Alyssa regale me with tales of junior high mischief.

The next day, Alyssa headed off to the music college, and I walked alone to drama practice. Halfway there, I saw Tony running towards me. I stopped in my tracks, afraid he was going to run into me. To my surprise, he slowed down and walked the rest of the way with me. He was in drama, too, and excited to find out what our “parts” were going to be.

Well, after auditioning, we were assigned the major player roles of Air Warden 2 (Me – one line) and Hillbilly 3 (Tony – two lines). The good thing about not being major players was that we were able to hang out around camp when we weren’t in a scene. Which for us meant a lot of free time.

When the music campers returned that evening, we all headed off to evening chapel. I had just sat down next to Alyssa when Tony squeezed into our row, right next to me. He doodled funny pictures on his chapel notes, and I had to suppress my laughter during the invitation, when he made squeaky shoe noises.

When we got back to our cabin, one of my other roommates said, “Do you know who sat by you at chapel tonight? That’s Tony Randall! He’s like the most popular guy in our school!”

I was flabbergasted! A nice guy was one thing – but a popular guy – well, that seemed impossible.

At night, Tony and Alyssa and I all hung out together. But during the day, Tony and I went hiking, played foosball, and went paddle boating together.

At the end of the summer, I knew what it felt like to have a guy for a friend. And it was a good thing, since I was about to go back to one of the worst years of my life.

Three years later, when I was a sophomore in high school, our volleyball/soccer teams headed to Schaumburg to play a double header. The boys on the soccer team were arrogant and cocky in the way that only Christian school boys big-fish-in-small-ponds can be. They thought I was less than nothing. Dirt. Not worth a millisecond of their time.

As I lumbered off the bus, I saw a flash of color as a boy in bright orange pants flew by on a skateboard. A crowd of student cheered him on and laughed. I only saw a shock of blond hair and turned to go into the gym with the rest of my volleyball team.
Then I heard, “Ann-Marie, is that you? I can’t believe it!”

I turned around and the tall, popular guy was talking to me. He was pointing emphatically at himself. “It’s me! Tony Randall! Remember? Drama camp?”

He raced over to me and HUGGED ME – right there in full view of my volleyball sisters AND our entire soccer team.

He’d matured into an even better looking guy, and it was easy to tell he was a popular guy. He happily dragged me out onto the soccer field HOLDING MY HAND and introduced me to his ENTIRE soccer team as “this great girl I met at drama camp.”

I was absolutely speechless. I was even more shocked when the soccer game was rained out and the boys had to come inside and wait for us to finish our game.

Tony cheered AGAINST HIS OWN TEAM for ME! Now, remember, I weighed close to 300 pounds at this point in my life.

No one knew what to make of it. Least of all me.

Tony gave me ANOTHER HUG before I got on the bus and told me how glad he was to have seen me again.

As I climbed on the bus, I saw new found respect on the faces of my classmates.

It was a great feeling.

I remembered back to camp when I first asked Alyssa about Tony. About why he was so nice to me. She said, “Tony is one of those rare people. I still can’t believe he’s my friend. He’s just one of those friends who sees what you’re like on the inside.”

So, I’d like to send a thank you out to Tony Randall.

Thank you for restoring my faith in the male gender.

Thank you for being a true friend.