Smash Mouth put it best when they said, with their complex but brilliant lyrics, ‘Why can’t we be friends?’

Upon graduation from each academic institution, I ask myself that same question. You see, I retain water a lot better than I do friends. My best friends have all perished. No, this is not the makings of ‘Final Destination 4.’ They are all alive, but the friendship has met its expiration. From pre-school to higher education, the characters of ‘Friends’ have outlasted my supporting cast.

My first BFF (best friend forever ‘ I know you know, but some don’t) was the bottle ‘ a baby’s bottle that is. It was always there for me, keeping me warm on the inside and preoccupied on the outside. At the age of 2, life sucked because I could no longer. They say a sucker is born every minute, but this one was just aborted. Madre and padre ripped away my bottle, pacifying no one.

Now it’s simply elementary school, where my accuracy of recollection will paint an enlightened portrait. Public School 117, home of ‘Wings’ star Peter Weber, is where I made my first two best friends, Michael C. and Amrith. The ‘C’ is necessary as there were multiple Michael’s in my elementary school, myself included. I was Michael B.

Now these friendships, contrary to most of mine, did last until the end of junior high school. Though I believe it was more a result of proximity than strength of friendship. Robert A. Van Wyck Junior High School 217, home of many second-chance students, was located directly across the street from P.S. 117 and was, in fact, my zoned school ‘ not to mention, due to overcrowding, we went there for sixth grade.

Michael C. was my best friend because I would hang out at his house everyday after school. Amrith was in most, if not all, of my classes, kindergarten through ninth grade. The true indicator that they were my best friends was that, as many young Jewish boys must decide, they were the only two friends I invited to my main Bar Mitzvah party, ceremony and all.

Between Michael C. moving and both he and Amrith attending different high schools, our friendship drew to its inevitable conclusion, though this time it was a matter of lack of persistence, not the forced removal of a friend, like with my bottle.

Townsend Harris High School, home of the Stuyvesant rejects or liberal arts lovers, however you want to phrase it, was the time in my life where I believed I would make those life-long friends ‘ at least that’s what ‘Saved by the Bell’ led me to believe. The two surviving friends from high school, and I say surviving because some friendships dissipated throughout the four years, lasted because we all ended up attending Binghamton University together. They will both remain nameless to protect their identities, as well as my image.

The first lasting high school friend and I met because we were grouped by last names. The other asked me to check the air pressure in his tires senior year. Currently, I remain friends with one of them here at Binghamton University, home of State Street. Right now, I have a good group of friends that I made here and associate with, though I will not name names, especially to protect my image, but one of them is a bottle. So the time has come once again to ask, ‘Why can’t we be friends?’

Let us first look back to help forecast the future. My first BFF was ripped away from me, and that was the single time I did cry about it. The second group moved on. The third moved on up with me, and this last group has moved me. I think for the first time I have made friends that graduation won’t kill. I’ve made the effort, and so have they. We are no longer children, but adults who must keep our social networks connected, no matter what the challenge. Moving back home or abroad is not an excuse. Distance provides an opportunity to visit, so don’t let miles separate years of closeness.

You can afford to lose free public education friends, but these are the people that four years of student loans have paid for. Get drunk, get stupid with your crew on Bar Crawl, but remember this is not the last hurrah. It’s only the last time it’s socially acceptable!

‘ Michael Borress is a senior management major, and Pipe Dream’s departing managing editor and white collar criminal. Remember his name, because you’ll probably see it in headlines when his Enron-esque scandals eventually blow up in his face and he’s given 10 to 20 years of house arrest in his Bedford Estate.