As I research on each of the members in my data base I often wonder what they were really like. The information found gives such a one dimensional and sometimes incorrect view of their personalities and life. Even the obituaries tend to have a typical tone of beloved spouse and admired member of the community. I wonder if they were kind or miserable, did they hum when they worked, dance with their mate or did they have two left feet. I wonder why so many didn’t get married, were they heartbroken after a spoiled love left them or too involved with caring for elder family members to marry.
When they list themselves as farmers, it really doesn’t display the whole picture. The farm could be anything from a small farm that supported the family to a large farm that supported the local community and beyond. Some of my "farmers" were actually oil producers in farmers boots.
I try not to make too many judgments on limited information, remembering an incident very clearly of my own. There was a new member of my work group, a young man half my age and new to the area. He was bouncy and full of youthful energy and just a little full of himself. I asked him one day if he would like to have lunch with me and he had agreed. We started across the parking lot and I watched him try to figure out which car was mine. He began to look a bit confused as we passed the compact cars, mom’s SUVs and luxury sedans. We kept walking out to the outer edge of the parking lot where I always parked my car, the selection of cars steadily declining.
We were down to the point that there was only one car left to choose from. I pulled my keys from my pocket and reached out to unlock my silver Mustang convertible. By now he really looked dazed and confused and blurted out, “this isn’t a conservative car at all!”
I burst into side splitting laughter.