Common denominators....

I have read that 75% of the population are extroverts. I don't recall the source, but based on my own personal experience, I would have to say I think that number is a little low.

In the interests of full disclosure, it would probably not be all that shocking to a regular peruser of this blog if I reveal that I am not an extrovert. In anyone's opinion. My very own son, Mr. Technology himself, once despaired over my enthusiasm for texting and instant messaging. He said it's an introvert's paradise, and will enable me to never see anyone in person again.

That is an obvious exaggeration.

Although, in the interests of fair and accurate reporting, I will acknowledge that hiding in my house on the weekend is an activity with which I am familiar.

[Mr. Tech Dude has had a few more things to say, too, but I'll keep them to myself. For now. You never know when you might have a need to use his own words against him, and I don't want to waste.]

I have digressed. Back to my point. And I do have one, I promise.

It appears to me that it's become the great American past time to be in everyone else's face all the time. There is just no privacy any more, and I'm pretty uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Americans have always venerated individuality. The great melting pot is a myth - we cling to our own way of doing things with a dedication that is singularly perplexing to me. Everyone is unique, everyone is, oh dreaded word, Special. It's a particularly insular and irritating American birthright, to be our own person, and we cling to it like an addict with a needle.

Put those two characteristics together, and one would imagine the whole 300 million of us are out there arguing and fighting to have things our own way, incapable of compromise or cooperative living. Sounds like Congress, or presidential politicking, but not the world I live in.

I have been singularly struck this week by the commonality of our human experiences. I, like virtually everyone in touch with the cyberworld, am on facebook. It's a tricky relationship, fraught with all sorts of complications for a person who isn't entirely comfortable with putting their whole life online. But to be left out is to live in a parallel universe, one where you are out of touch with what is happening in the real world, and that isn't really an option either.

Over the last few days, the very best thing about facebook became clear to me, and reaffirmed for me the importance of staying connected. I joined a new group, created as a celebration of the same small town from which we all emerged as adults. Some of us made our exit many years ago, some of us more recently fled the confines of the little burg in which we formed our world view. Some of us still live there, continuing the work of generations past to maintain the traditions and history of which we are all a part.

But the striking thing, at least to me, is the commonality of life events that has spanned the generations. The names have changed, the locations may be slightly altered, but the experiences, the ties that bind us together as people from this same tiny slice of the planet, are nearly identical.

We have discussed common memories and common places. We share sights and sounds and smells which take us back to a childhood in which the world was less complicated. We have discussed the unique smell of the public library and the smoking that occurred in the bathroom of the high school. Turns out we were all afraid of the same little dog, and the same locations have hosted generations of fun loving students throwing parties out of sight of their parents.

Despite age differences that span dozens of years, we have the same familiar teachers and the same cafeteria food to look back on. No matter that we are from different generations, the Boulevard remains embedded in our memories and we all know exactly what it means to the town without another word of explanation needed.

It is rather startling just how much commonality there is amongst us. I have never before realized how much my memories, which I thought were unique and different from everyone else's, mirrored not only my age cohort, but people of all ages who grew up in the same place.

I think we, as humans, are frequently guilty of fixating on the things that divide us. Family background, political persuasion, profession, location, ethnic background, religious upbringing - all are used to drive a wedge between otherwise decent and interesting people. And yet, when groups form and start to share their story, it seems we are all characters in the same chronicle, common memories staying with each of us over the years.

I have seen the comments made by a couple of friends who are in similar groups for their home towns, and it is even more apparent just how much we all have in common. We think a small town girl from Minnesota has little in common with a city girl from the East Coast, and yet, the basic memories are much the same. We all have our comfort food, we all listened to the same music, we all had our mascots and our broken hearts and our goofy teachers and people who reached out to us and truly made a difference in our lives.

It has dawned on me that what stays with us as we move through our lives is not the exact place, but how it made us feel. It is that comfort, that knowledge that we were young and safe and cared for, which brings us into groups such as these, and allows us to reminisce with others who share those feelings.

Nostalgia has suddenly taken on a new meaning for me. I have left the small town behind, in some ways, but the siren call of my childhood will never leave me. And the times we shared, the feelings we had, the sights and smells and laughter and memories, are something we keep for all time.

It has been a sentimental journey, and it has left me with a song in my heart. "Oh Day, Full of Grace" is the name of that song. It's sort of nice to know that there are a few thousand other people out there who understand exactly what I'm talking about.