We’ve lost commonality as a society. That is not a profound statement if you pay attention to social trends through the media, but it is a telling one.
The U.S. has been fracturing for years. Things that used to bind us together have faded in interest or gone extinct.
We used to bowl together. Now we surf the Internet alone.
We used to read national news magazines like Time, Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report or even Life. Now, there’s more “watching” than reading, and what reading is done occurs in quick 140-character bursts that serve to further separate us into the distinct groups rather than bring us together in a shared way.
You slowly get adjusted to this change in our national character, and after a point it seems normal. You find no one relates to the books you read, you can’t have a reasonable discussion about politics or the environment and you adapt by separating yourself rather than engaging and finding common ground that lead to solutions or just personal enjoyment. That’s not a good thing.
That’s why it was so pleasant to have a recent conversation with a friend I hadn’t spoken heard from in a couple of years. He called after being informed by a mutual friend that I was looking for employment. We moved on from that subject to catch up on our families and the random topics that emerge when you chat with someone in your friendship comfort zone.
At some point, in an offhand way, he brought up a book, “Sh*t My Dad Says,” and started quoting from it. I laughed. The passages he related were ones I remembered from having read the book.
This was ASTOUNDING! Two middle-aged males having a conversation and in the middle of it they realize they both read the same book and actually remember some of the funnier stuff and quote it back to each other? Whoa, now that is something to make your day and give you hope -- that other people are out there reading and sharing.
Forty years ago it wouldn’t have been unusual to find others reading the same book you were. Today, not only is that unusual, but you could almost go out of your way to find anyone who is reading the same book you are, and be unable to find someone.
Take the past year of your life. Remember the books you read, and any discussions (book clubs don’t count) you’ve have with friends, neighbors, or a family member on the plot or message. Can you think of one day where you conversed with someone else about the book? My wife and I don’t even read the same stuff, except for occasional news articles we find intriguing and pass onto each other.
On top of my friend and I having read the book, we both liked it. And we didn’t just like it, we found it hysterical and referenced it to other people. I, in fact, loaned the book to both my brothers, who also read it. So, finding a friend who out-of-the-blue voiced similar pleasure with the writing was one of those incidents that make your day.
This gave me hope. If we can find someone who reads, and then on top of that, find someone who reads similar literature, and on top of that, find someone with a shared sense of humor, then that raises our laughter quotient.
Not only does that make you feel good, but it means there’s still hope for bowling.
The U.S. has been fracturing for years. Things that used to bind us together have faded in interest or gone extinct.
We used to bowl together. Now we surf the Internet alone.
We used to read national news magazines like Time, Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report or even Life. Now, there’s more “watching” than reading, and what reading is done occurs in quick 140-character bursts that serve to further separate us into the distinct groups rather than bring us together in a shared way.
You slowly get adjusted to this change in our national character, and after a point it seems normal. You find no one relates to the books you read, you can’t have a reasonable discussion about politics or the environment and you adapt by separating yourself rather than engaging and finding common ground that lead to solutions or just personal enjoyment. That’s not a good thing.
That’s why it was so pleasant to have a recent conversation with a friend I hadn’t spoken heard from in a couple of years. He called after being informed by a mutual friend that I was looking for employment. We moved on from that subject to catch up on our families and the random topics that emerge when you chat with someone in your friendship comfort zone.
At some point, in an offhand way, he brought up a book, “Sh*t My Dad Says,” and started quoting from it. I laughed. The passages he related were ones I remembered from having read the book.
This was ASTOUNDING! Two middle-aged males having a conversation and in the middle of it they realize they both read the same book and actually remember some of the funnier stuff and quote it back to each other? Whoa, now that is something to make your day and give you hope -- that other people are out there reading and sharing.
Forty years ago it wouldn’t have been unusual to find others reading the same book you were. Today, not only is that unusual, but you could almost go out of your way to find anyone who is reading the same book you are, and be unable to find someone.
Take the past year of your life. Remember the books you read, and any discussions (book clubs don’t count) you’ve have with friends, neighbors, or a family member on the plot or message. Can you think of one day where you conversed with someone else about the book? My wife and I don’t even read the same stuff, except for occasional news articles we find intriguing and pass onto each other.
On top of my friend and I having read the book, we both liked it. And we didn’t just like it, we found it hysterical and referenced it to other people. I, in fact, loaned the book to both my brothers, who also read it. So, finding a friend who out-of-the-blue voiced similar pleasure with the writing was one of those incidents that make your day.
This gave me hope. If we can find someone who reads, and then on top of that, find someone who reads similar literature, and on top of that, find someone with a shared sense of humor, then that raises our laughter quotient.
Not only does that make you feel good, but it means there’s still hope for bowling.