Who Needs Friends: A Guest Post by Andrew McCarthy

Andrew McCarthy takes himself across America to meet with people from his past in this inspiring exploration of male friendship, connections and self-discovery. Read on for an exclusive essay from Andrew on writing Who Needs Friends.

“You don’t really have any friends, do you, Dad?” My son’s question was simple enough— if direct.

“I have friends, Sam,” I told him. “I just don’t see them, but I know they’re there, and that’s enough.”

My son considered me, nodded, and went off to meet his girlfriend.

Over the following days, our exchange kept coming back to me. Finally, sitting with a cup of weak tea in hand, I said aloud to an empty kitchen, “No. It’s not enough.”

I got in my car and began what evolved into a 10,000-mile road trip across America to reconnect with some of my oldest, dearest friends—friends I hadn’t seen in years and years.

My inherent dislike of highway driving kept me on back roads—and something started to happen. In small towns and along byways often overlooked in the rush of life, I began to talk with men. I met former military in Philadelphia, cops in Ohio, Blues musicians in Mississippi, professors in Texas, Wyoming cowboys, writers in California. I met students and old geezers. And I spoke with them all about the place friendship had in their lives. I encountered deep loneliness and abiding connections. I discovered the near universal weight men feel to provide. I came to understand something of how men feel about power and what the lack of it can do to a man.

One of my biggest surprises was that not a single man I approached at random—in cafés and at gas stations, in bars and on the streets—said no to talking with me. After initially offering me some strange looks, all opened up. Most confessed to never having spoken about the topic, many had never even considered it.

As I drove across the country, reconnecting with my friends and meeting these generous men, I began to feel what can best be described as an emotional “safety net” spreading out under me. The seeping and unacknowledged isolation that had begun to assert itself in my life melted away and I came home to myself.

I thought it was worth a book.