I’m generally not an eavesdropper. That might not be entirely true, because I do love to listen to what children are talking about. I like to hear the things that are important to them and what words they choose to discuss on any topic, and I love the sound of children’s voices. I tell myself it is eavesdropping in the purest sense, not in judgment or with intention of butting into said conversation, but instead an opportunity to savour the sound of a child’s voice the way one does to the songs of birds and of whales and of rushing water. Perhaps I am giving myself more noble intent than I deserve. I mostly tune out conversations between adults because it is none of my business nor do I have any interest in the private details of their thoughts. That was true until yesterday when my grandson and I sat in a booth at an A&W enjoying a yummy serving of teen-burgers and onion rings.
A couple came to the A&W counter to place their order. I’m not good at assessing the age of others, but if I had to guess I would say they were in their seventies. They placed their order, and I paid no attention to what their choices were, but then following the placing of their order their voices continued and started to wiggle in my awareness and before I realized it, I was tuned in. The content of the conversation wasn’t the first thing that caught my attention, it was the fact that a conversation was occurring at all between patrons and a staff member in a fast-food establishment, where we expect to get in and out in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t merely small talk; it was the sharing of a history of having worked in an A&W as a teenager more than fifty years earlier.
After the details of where the couple grew up, which was somewhere in British Columbia, and the employee added her details and after they remembered the items on the menu from the “early days” that are no longer available including the orange pop, they compared the art of making onion rings by hand and onion rings made with an appliance, the former winning by a landslide. They laughed and shared personal details such as the recent onset of Alzheimer’s for the gentleman who was providing most of the conversation and how happy he was to be able to discuss those things that are still readily available in his memory. “That won’t always be the case,” he said, his voice filled not with fear or anger, but with acceptance and holding firm to that part of memory that was still intact. Linden and I finished our lunch and disposed of the waste that comes with eating out and headed out the door. I wanted to thank those still engaged in their conversation but chose not to disturb them and … it got me thinking.
We have become such an instant society, relying on and demanding immediacy in just about everything we do. Of course, I am well aware there is some benefit to that approach. But I can’t help thinking about what we have lost. Many of our stores, grocery and others, have added self-checkout for efficiency and to reduce costs of operation, or in other words to increase income for corporate giants. In my humble opinion, this only serves to erode the few chances for many to share exchanges, the chance for connection no matter how brief. During the isolation created by Covid, I was aware of the importance of having a conversation with the checkout person at the grocery store or at the post office and how valuable it was to look someone in the eye and hear their voice and exchange pleasantries, to share a smile and a laugh. Though that may seem to be something we can easily do without, I think it is an important aspect of society that we are letting slip away from us with little or no notice. We can buy online, we can pick up our groceries without getting out of our car, we can borrow e-books on our tablets and never seek the advice of a librarian, we can talk to our doctors over the phone, and a host of other “efficiencies” that limit interaction. Interaction is essential to our well-being and the well-being of our communities. Knowing our neighbours by name isn’t so much a luxury as it is a need. To know who we are raising a hand to with a wave, isn’t just an important facet of community, it grants us all a sense of belonging, of holding a place of value. To be asked “how are you today” may sound like a trite expression but it is loaded up with opportunity.
wendistewart@live.ca
