But come to think of it, at one point in time I probably was: tied down by the full catastrophy, never having come to the idea that ‘reality’ needed the prefix ‘3D’ in order to distinguish it from that other realm. They were sitting in my train this morning, like often, their dialogue restricted to the usual: what the people around them did, whether it was wise to do so, or maybe even very unwise. Noticing full well the general decline in the world around us, but accepting it as something that is inevitable…..
I’ve heard those conversations dozens of times before, and not just from the two of them. At one point it made me want to bud in, and ask them if either of them had any dreams left they could talk about, for that would be far more pleasant than this barrage of castastrophy.
But I didn’t. Mainly because I, versed in expressing myself in language, could not think of a clean sentence to make it not look like an attack. But still, something seemed to change despite my silence: one of the two decided he’d continue with a catastrophy all in a class of it’s own: he’d been totally obliterated by his ten year old son or nephew, at a game of Modern Warfare this weekend! Now there was something I can relate to. As they talked, a smile came to my face. Not that I’ve been through the same humiliation, but I know the woes of kids and gaming, with two female game addicts at home! Now they don’t go for warfare, but do exercise their brains just like other kids: far more at ease with third person perspective than us elderly, their cerebellum gets way more exercise than ours! And even though I don’t usually read the free newspapers on the train, I did glance one headline when Leo held up his copy this morning: apparently, the media wanted to emphasize too, that kids actually are faster thinkers than we are, because of their games!
And with a fast exchange like that, I had to leave the two to their train trip, because for me the end of the line was reached: Veenendaal-de Klomp, which I wil visit again in about three hours, on the return trip home….
Love smalltalk, sometimes it delivers.