When I was a child in the sixties. I would go with
my mother shopping. These were the days when dogs ran after cars thinking the
vehicles were predators. It was the days before supermarkets, plastic,
decimalisation, Pot Noodles, and self-service.
The first stop was the fruit and veg shop and,
being a weekend, there was a long queue. My mother wasted no time in starting a
conversation with whoever was in the line.
Next were the butchers, and the queue scenario
continued with a lengthy conversation whilst I shuffled my feet on the sawdust
floor making shapes. Mother would ask the butcher to hold up fresh cuts of meat
whilst she inspected it for flaws. This process would happen every week even though
the meat was seen through the glass, but that is the way it was.
Then it was butter. Yes, a long queue just for
butter and conversations. I was always fascinated by the way the man slapped
the butter on to greaseproof paper and handed it over to mum. See, no plastic.
Then we would go on the bus and my mother would sit
us near the front with all the shopping, then put her arm on the armrest and
turn to everyone on the bus and start a conversation.
Well, that was Glasgow in the old days. The days
when community and social connection meant something. Now we tuck ourselves
away in the cyber-hive and wonder why there is so much loneliness, depression,
and antidepressants.
I know this is a bit of a ramble, but let me tell
you, my sister and I are no different, we find it easy to start conversations.
When I visited her this week, I was telling her about a Dutch couple I met this
week near Loch Lomond. My sister replied, “I think I know them.” What are the
chances? There must be a million Dutch visitors who come to Scotland’s shores
every year, but stranger things have happened.
Anyway, whether she knew them or not, she told me a
lovely little story about appreciation. My sister and her husband met this
Dutch couple at a caravan site in the past. Being friendly, they welcomed the
couple and spent time with them, it is a cultural symbiosis. Tourists love to
get to know the locals when they visit countries. However, when the Dutch
couple left early one morning, they left a little pair of Dutch clogs as a
remembrance and appreciation. Lovely!
Now if this couple my wife and I met were the same
ones my sister met, all I can say is kleine wereld.
The Simple Joy of Human Connection
Image by https://unsplash.com/@dmjdenise
When I was a child in the sixties. I would go with my mother shopping. These were the days when dogs ran after cars thinking the vehicles were predators. It was the days before supermarkets, plastic, decimalisation, Pot Noodles, and self-service.
The first stop was the fruit and veg shop and, being a weekend, there was a long queue. My mother wasted no time in starting a conversation with whoever was in the line.
Next were the butchers, and the queue scenario continued with a lengthy conversation whilst I shuffled my feet on the sawdust floor making shapes. Mother would ask the butcher to hold up fresh cuts of meat whilst she inspected it for flaws. This process would happen every week even though the meat was seen through the glass, but that is the way it was.
Then it was butter. Yes, a long queue just for butter and conversations. I was always fascinated by the way the man slapped the butter on to greaseproof paper and handed it over to mum. See, no plastic.
Then we would go on the bus and my mother would sit us near the front with all the shopping, then put her arm on the armrest and turn to everyone on the bus and start a conversation.
Well, that was Glasgow in the old days. The days when community and social connection meant something. Now we tuck ourselves away in the cyber-hive and wonder why there is so much loneliness, depression, and antidepressants.
I know this is a bit of a ramble, but let me tell you, my sister and I are no different, we find it easy to start conversations. When I visited her this week, I was telling her about a Dutch couple I met this week near Loch Lomond. My sister replied, “I think I know them.” What are the chances? There must be a million Dutch visitors who come to Scotland’s shores every year, but stranger things have happened.
Anyway, whether she knew them or not, she told me a lovely little story about appreciation. My sister and her husband met this Dutch couple at a caravan site in the past. Being friendly, they welcomed the couple and spent time with them, it is a cultural symbiosis. Tourists love to get to know the locals when they visit countries. However, when the Dutch couple left early one morning, they left a little pair of Dutch clogs as a remembrance and appreciation. Lovely!
Now if this couple my wife and I met were the same ones my sister met, all I can say is kleine wereld.