Dragging a cord behind me
How large is your circle? Does it go beyond your personal horizon?
One of the neat things about getting (gradually) older is that you start to drag a long cord of “personal history” around. After all, you had to live somewhere, and there had to be other people in your orbit. Start trying to make a connected list of the people that sat behind you in math class, or caught your school bus. Then, play with that whole “Where are they now?” reality show script.
Thanks to social media, we have communities that are spread out, across the map and the timeline. When you read about that corner store where you used to go for a five cent Popsicle, chances are that someone else has already contributed to the thread. All of a sudden, your sense of history has more colours; more details worth passing along to anyone else who will listen (ah, the joys of advanced age).
I was fortunate. My cord drags over several provinces, and towns and villages that have changed (more than me). I can check in to the various forums (forii), assured of meeting a kindred spirit. Even if I never make a public announcement, I’m on board for the memory express.
Perhaps, a generation ago, I would have compiled the tales into a handwritten journal. Something to be scanned, and then tossed, by the person tasked to reel up my dragging thread. Now, Google will take care of all that. The ads in the margin are just details (for the next generation).
