March 13, 2010 @ 10:03 pm by sean
I have a book from the Harm A. Weber Library (is that what it was called? shame on me) basement book store called Rural Wisdom: Time-Honored Values of the Midwest.
I obviously cherish every word.
I read one today at dinner:
Go ice fishing as often as you can. Sitting on a frozen lake in winter with a few old friends is a wonderful time to swap stories, and, in the quiet of a dark and dreary winter day, reflect on life.
Ice fishing, card games, picnics (I hope to remedy that one this summer on Belle Isle, with a Gatsby Picnic) and the like, these things are distinctly missing from my group social activities. I enjoy bars, but that seems to be the default location for group recreation, and only so ideal for conversation and stories with meaning. The meaning is distinctly what’s generally been missing. Perhaps older generations, rural folk, have lacked the entertainment we have today, but what are we sacrificing for this trivial amusement? Who grows old with that same group of friends anymore? Who swaps anything more than drunk stories anymore? Who will have as big of 50th anniversary parties as our grandparents? Who will be so familiar with those in the obituaries? Who even cares anymore?