A Friday Sidebar on discovering unexpected truths in unexpected places
Names have been changed for privacy.
Just about two years ago, a new boss came to my office with a plan.
Using one of his favorite biz-buzz words, he told me that “we” (we?) were going to “pivot.” I was being re-assigned.
It would be a big change, and involve significant and frequent travel.
There would be exciting new experiences, like rental car snafus, very weird airline seatmates, and disturbingly slow-draining hotel bathroom sinks.
Not to mention: far too many impulse purchases of overly-salted snacks.
(I’m a legit regular at the Hudson News.)
It’s been a challenging 22 months. I can say with certainty that the experience has been equal parts invigorating, frightening, and more often than not, downright exhausting.
But it’s also been incredibly enlightening.
Regardless of our political leanings, it’s hard to ignore how divided things feel.
We pick a side and consume our daily doses of Fox, CNN, Newsmax, and MSNBC. (Feel free to insert whatever social media dopamine delivery system you’ve signed up for.)
“Staying connected,” we rationalize. Yet largely self-confined to our own echo chambers.
The noise is constant.
The rhetoric is heated.
And the country seems perpetually at each other’s throats.
But travelling to different places that I may have only read about online or seen on the news has been revealing. It’s given me a different perspective.
What I’ve been surprised to learn during my travels is that most folks are not like the people we see on the news, constantly chasing an “us vs. them” mentality. Almost always, all they seem to want is to connect on an elementary, and notably, an apolitical level.
On a recent trip to Utah, I had back-to-back presentations scheduled for the week.
As is often the case when meeting business contacts in person for the first time, I try to listen more than speak. It’s after the last PowerPoint slide has been shown that you begin to learn the important stuff about people.
- Joshua told me in great detail all about his fishing weekend.
He smiled and shook his head as he described what a good sport his best friend of 33 years (who also happens to be his wife) was about the whole thing.
- Mary proudly shared that she’d been in her current role for seven years. But she was starting to wonder if things were becoming stagnant.
She spoke candidly about a growing restlessness in her career, a sense that it might be time for something new.
- Jeff was a proud third-generation worker in his family’s blue-collar trade.
But he sometimes wondered if he’d have been better off taking a different path, doing something entirely different with his life.
- Cody shared a poignant story about his recently deceased father. He recounted memories of a man who led by example, driven by an unwavering work ethic.
As he spoke about their relationship, I sensed that if I weren’t such a comparative stranger, he would have had a lot more to say.
What struck me about these conversations was that even though I was a little blue fish in a big ol’ red pond, there was absolutely zero political content.
- No tiresome tariff or border-wall dialog.
- No heated debates about healthcare or climate change.
- No mention of party lines or political agendas.
It was just people sharing stories, refusing to succumb to weight of the pervasive and divisive issues hanging in the air. Folks wrestling with universal questions about purpose, tradition, change, and belonging.
Late in the week, a revelation of sorts came on a 117-mile stretch of Wyoming backroad.
I was in the literal middle of nowhere, with scrub brush to the left and right, and mountains looming in the distance. Frequent checks to the rear view mirror confirmed that I was very much alone.
In my little car on the prairie, radio reception of any kind was nearly nonexistent.
Finally, I found a weak-ish signal: an AM station playing country music hits from the ’60s, ’70s, and early ’80s.
It came complete with a mellow, old-school DJ. His slow, easygoing style set the perfect tone. And as one does when listening to classic country, I found myself paying close attention to the stories in the songs.
I’d forgotten how universal this genre’s messaging can be.
It was a serene and peaceful way to pass a lonely four-hour drive. As I listened to my unexpected travel soundtrack, some of the songs brought to mind a few conversations I’d had earlier in the week. Conversations that reinforced the notion of: “How about we dump the politics? Let’s chat about something important:”
- “I have to tell you all about the big trout I caught last Saturday.
- “And what’s up with my career.”
- “And my family’s traditional work”
- “And how much I miss my dad.”
Obviously, it was just a coincidence, enhanced by a long drive and an under-caffeinated imagination. But as certain songs played, some of my new acquaintances came along for the ride.
Joshua was there, fly fishing.
Mary re-told her tale.
I recalled my chat with Jeff when the DJ spun:
And right on cue, Cody’s dad showed up. Just like he always did.
And as my newfound acquaintances and their “signature songs” began to drift off into the night, I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony:
Quietly, amongst the fading signal and increasing static, I was remined that I was indeed:
The next 60 miles were radio-less, and that was OK. It gave me time think on this a bit.
Maybe the real America isn’t the one we see on our screens.
I’m starting to believe that it’s the one we discover when we’re willing to tune into a different frequency, literally and figuratively, and just listen.
Thank You For Your Vote!
Sorry You have Already Voted!
Really nicely written, mt, and emotionally true. I often feel like the only hope we have as a nation is to not let the politics and their surrounding polarization drown us. (Or, in other words, “Don’t believe the hype!”)
Hope your weekend is restful and, if possible, free from travel.
This is a beautiful piece and you best believe I’m going to share it on social media. It may get drowned out by the better-selling vitriol but someone who needs reminding of our basic similarities will read it. And our country will be a slightly better place.
Excellent salve for what ails us, mt. Having traveled and lived out west, I really love those long, lonely drives through the stark intermountain landscapes. And I know all of those songs. Without checking, I think it’s a safe bet that all 5 of them topped the country charts (or came close).
But more importantly, as we step away from the us vs them mentality of the media (social and otherwise), we realize that we people are all pretty similar and are worth loving.
Great story V-Dog.
I wish I could sometimes turn off the noise, but it’s everywhere around me. As a result, I find myself pulling back from events where I’ll feel uncomfortable because of my political leanings, a difficult thing to do since I’m a very social person.
Music is one escape for me, the other (currently) is Taskmaster, an amazing series I watch on YT.
Good on you all.
psst…it was mt58 that told the story. Not V-Dog. 🙂
Understandable. Bill’s byline is usually up front on Fridays!
It’s an easy mistake. From this distance, mt58 and I look a lot alike.
Yes to Taskmaster! Huge fan, the whole family is, me and Mrs J have been watching since the first series. I went to the studio record of an episode a couple of years ago.
Series 20 debuted last night and it had already crossed my mind to write something about the show. I know it has a small but growing and dedicated US following with Alex and Greg visiting the last couple of years to promote it.
Got a couple of things in mind to write for the site but now you’ve mentioned it Taskmaster might take priority. The whole world needs to get on board with it.
Apologies for getting off track from mt’s timely and important message, I just can’t see a Taskmaster reference and not pick up on it.
This is such a timely piece to read right now, mt58, especially in light of how some have reacted to recent events and posted comments that sorely tempted me to drop them. I do strongly believe that more unites us than divides us in America. The problem is that the louder voices on the extremes drown out most of us in the middle and leaves us depressed as a result. Thanks for making me have faith again that the American dream may be tattered but not totally tainted, despite what certain people online may imply.
I could pretty much just write ditto to what everyone else said.
Its easy to get sucked into the outrage and anger on social media that rewards who can shout loudest but the reality I cling onto, is that they’re the minority. Most just want to get along. There may be grumbles or times when it makes you want to lose it but getting along with others is a whole lot easier than hating. Its the small stuff that keeps us going, whether that is catching a fish, catching up with friends and family, sitting on the sofa watching your favourite show.
Or visiting TNOCS and hanging out with good people.