love finding the irony of events around me and composing a story around them. And I love good stories, where things happen and there is a humorous/moralistic/ironical meaning to them. I’m not keen on the “why I was great and everyone else is an idiot” stories – usually these involve straw men and simplistic one-upsmanship that serves no purpose outside of self-gratulation.
However, every so often a story comes up that I’m reluctant to share. Often it will hurt the other person by telling it (even though, if it involves me or takes place around me, I’ll consider it public property at that point). Or it’s just a delicate issue and I’m afraid I’ll break trust in the reveal.
What got me thinking of this was that someone I knew distantly mentioned out of the blue my interest in ancient history. I’m not sure how they knew, and how it came about. I was in a situation and they were speaking and making a historic reference and then noted that I’m well-versed in such things. It shocked me that I was recognized.
And, of course, my first idea was to turn it into a post. It’s Wednesday and I’m running up on my deadline.
But no, I don’t know if this person found me out through gentle inquiry, googling, or perhaps follows this column. I’m not sure. But our relationship right now – distant – is where it should be. It doesn’t need to get closer, or strained, or changed. It’s just right.
But I’d sure like to know how he knows this about me.
That would be a story!