BIG NOTHING

The "Big Nothing" is what persons, cultures and civilizations tend to or seek to forget. It is at times on purpose, most often it is a kind of necessary abnesia. Utah Phillips, radical folk singer & raconteur, said that "Long memory is the most radical thing in America." It took Howard Zinn to point out the convenient deletions in American history with his landmark & best selling "People's History of the United States." What is it about this time which not only encourages but rewards abnesia?

As a person who has lived a long and active life, who spend years at sea, and in travels, in several occupations, etc., I seldom get a question about anything, almost never. Could this be considered deference or manners? I doubt it. It has in part to do with the almost complete lack of curiosity in our society. Thus conversation is filled either with facts or trivia, or media updates. What could be a bridge to ones own memory and sharing of that memory is a kind of dead end.

So, if one is to share one's life and memories, it takes intervention into the "big nothing," and can be nothing short of the interruption of nothingness. Continuity which is the ideal of conversational sharing is made extremely unlikely, and thus one's attempt to share thoughts and memories in spite of this becomes an existential exercise ... often very uncomfortable. Some of the Stories which will be a part of this blog will cover ground in this area, and some will use fiction and fictious names to do this.

For those of you who have read about the origins of this blog you will know where some of my people curiousity came from. But it was also through my immediate and extended family, later by mentors, teachers, coaches and the like. For the twenty or thirty years my memory tells me that conversational life was an interesting free for all, and that one was challenged to question, comment, find out about the people who surrounded you, t h e w o r l d. An elderly Indian man (from India) showed up at the local playground and sat at a picnic bench. At first people wondered who he was waiting for, what was the deal? But he was just there waiting for anyone with a question or comment to share, and before long he was at times surrounded by an unlikely little crowd of neighborhood urchins. Sometimes when he was pleased with the questions and answers he would deputize one of us to go to the store and get some gum drops, or chewing gum or something to share. Today I suspect that the playground personnel would call the authorities and have the man's background check run. He remains one of the most fascinating people of my childhood. Should anyone else be interested, wonder what subjects were discussed?