Anniversary

Unless I miss my guess, today would be the 101st Anniversary of me Grandpaw and Grandmaw Hutchins, me Mom's parents, wedding. Even if I'm wrong, it's this year sometime I'm sure.

A hundred and one years. How different is the world? In 1923 there were no TVs, no computers, and still an awful lot of the nation without electricity. Calvin Coolidge recited the oath of office for President by lamp light in his father's house in Vermont because his dad didn't have electric service. Radio, cars, and air flight were still also in infancy. Many folks died from conditions we don't think twice about anymore, as the medicines and medical techniques we have now weren't even thought of then. Photographs were still rare, and movies had no sound.

Today? Wow. We couldn't live without most of that stuff. Well, I can live without airplanes, but that's an aside. It's been said that the changes during the Twentieth Century were more wide ranging and profound than during any 100 years before. I believe that's true. A lot of it is impressive though, yet we take so much of it for granted. 

We humans. Always on the trail of the next best thing, aren't we?

Culture clash?

Wednesday evening as I returned my rental car, there were two young women talking just to the side of the building entrance. One was liberally adorned with tattoos, with some kind of deep blue streaks in her hair and a piercing crossways through her bottom lip. That ain't my style, but whatever. Anyway, I was myself wearing a Boston home baseball cap and Fenway Park shirt, purchased during my recent trip. As I approached the door the adorned girl glanced at me, smiled broadly, and said enthusiastically, "Nice Red Sox gear!"

I said back, smiling also, "Thank you!", and went on in.

She came in a minute later and happened to sit near me as I waited my turn. Apparently she was there to rent a car herself. I asked, "So are you from Boston?"

"No, Providence. But we're all Sox fans." We then went on to talk about baseball, the Red Sox, Fenway and its wall (the Green Monster), and about how we would each love to see a game from the seats atop the Monster. It turned out her family has had Bosox season tickets for years and they all love baseball. She goes to Fenway every time she's back home.

"Mr. Cosgriff?" the next available agent asked. I thanked the young lady for the conversation as I excused myself. "No, it was great seeing someone from Red Sox Nation so far from home!" she responded.

I didn't tell her that I had just gotten back from Boston, or that I had specifically went there because my beloved Detroit Tigers were the visitors and that I had cheered their 4-2 win. That would simply have been crass, given that she was so excited to see someone she thought was from Beantown and a fellow Sox fan. It was by any measure a great small world moment. No point even mildly ruining it.

But it further proves, as I said the other day, this baseball, it gets to ya.