The Value of Community

It’s Saturday morning at the bagel shop.  Unless something unusual is going on, the pattern of our Saturday mornings starts with breakfast at our local bagel shop.  It’s an appointment that is hard to miss.

This morning, Joe and Fred (the Benanti brothers) are the first to arrive, sauntering in from the gym.   We end up sitting together, talking about anything, and I mean anything, from our families to politics.  The crowd swells and chairs are moved around as Uncle Fred and Bob arrive.  Along with our wives and other family members that come and go, we enjoy just sitting and talking.  This ritual is so regular that our 2½ year old grand daughter can name all 3 of the Benanti brothers and their uncle Fred.  She’s pretty sure that she has 4 Italian uncles.

In the background, the regular customers come and go, like familiar waves at the ocean.  We recognize most, know some and greet many as the morning progresses.  

There is always laughter at the table, friendly barbs and great stories.  Conversational subject matter can change at a blinding speed.  

This is what’s missing in the lives of many Americans.  As technology takes the place of daily conversation, the art of just sitting around talking (my dad used to call it chewing the fat) is lost to a population that needs to get on to the next “thing.”  Real communication is exchanged for 144 characters (or less) on a screen.

Yesterday, while sitting at the bagel shop with my four best friends early in the morning, my son came through.  Unusual, since he lives about 20 miles away on the other side of town.  He sat down and joined the conversation for a while and I realized he had inherited his love for people and conversation from me.  He sat and talked with 5 adult men as an equal.  That conversation was so enjoyable, it was tough to head on to work.  

Relationships that turn into enduring life-long friendships are the “stuff-of-life.”  They add a quality to life that cannot be replaced by a glowing screen, e-mail or a tweet.  The culture, driven by technology, is moving toward the reduction of relationship and involvement in the lives of others.  As it does, it moves us from the rich landscape of involvement to a cold sterile world of shared facts devoid of feeling and emotion.  Life’s enthusiasms are shared not based on experience but on events that require a ticket.  Each generation adds a level of superlative vocabulary to describe the average and the mundane.

For me, I chose talking with people.  It’s not epic, awesome or radical, it’s just life.  As I mature, I want to have friends with whom I can laugh my way to the grave, in the certain knowledge that I will be sorely missed on Friday and Saturday morning.