Anniversaries

Tree highlighted by a streetlamp during a morning walk

My parents’ thirty-sixth wedding anniversary took place this week- the same day as the one-year anniversary of the murder of George Floyd. The first of these events is known to only a handful of people, whereas the second one is of international significance. This week also marks a year since I began playing World of Warcraft (WoW), which is noteworthy to no one except me, and perhaps the billing department at Blizzard, the game’s developer.

Thirty years from now, will any of these dates still be observed for these reasons? I might be able to recall my parent’s wedding anniversary without looking it up; I can tell you with near certainty that I won’t be telling anyone the date of my WoW account creation. While the name George Floyd is extremely relevant in 2021- and I believe that lasting, impactful changes have already resulted from the tragedy of his death- who’s to say that we as a society will pay special heed to May 25th three decades later?

Humans like to signify events that are important- think for a moment about how many dates on your calendar are marked as holidays or the birthdays of famous individuals. Even if you don’t consider December 25th to be the birthday of Jesus, it’s likely you still associate it with being “Christmas.”  

However, the reason(s) we celebrate or remember specific dates change over time; the emotional impact of an event lessens, fewer people are around who lived through it, and so on. September 11, 2001 is still fresh in the minds of Americans twenty years later, but December 7, 1941 doesn’t have the same instant recognition factor it did when my parents were growing up.

Speaking of Pearl Harbor, I’m reminded of the conversation I had with former Lillington, North Carolina mayor Frank Lewis, for an 11th grade project on World War II and the “greatest generation.” Mr. Lewis served in the South Pacific during the war, and my interaction with him was important in shaping my views of said war. Reading history books and poring over records is informative, but part of the human connection is lost in the written word.

I believe this to be true of any event or era; firsthand accounts provide the greatest understanding, even if any given individual’s point of view is limited in scope. It’s unlikely that today’s high school students will be allowed the same opportunity that I had to personally interview a veteran of World War II. This lack of direct contact may diminish the impact of the period for future generations, and the significance of the events will shift along with this.

What sort of anniversaries are meaningful to you? The moments that we value may differ, but the reasons we cherish them are more similar than not.

Even the small favors are a big help

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I was taking the week’s recycling to the county landfill when a school bus turned onto the road in front of me. Driving slowly behind a bus isn’t an issue for me, but today this meant I was not going to reach the dump before closing time. I ended up at the gate about five minutes after 4 PM. (the photo is of a dirt road opposite the one leading to the landfill)

Luckily, the gatekeeper was still sitting in his truck at the landfill entrance, which meant I could plead my case. I told him that I had recycling to get rid of. “You know where it goes?” he asked. “Yep, drop-off number two,” I replied. He stared at me for a moment, then nodded his head towards the gate. “Alright, go on in.”

Allowing me in after hours to discard all the paper and plastic in my backseat was not something this man had to do. As favors go, it was probably a small one; I doubt that keeping the gate open for another two minutes was much of an inconvenience for him, especially since there was still a commercial garbage truck inside. Nevertheless, it was a kindness, one that made me smile. 

By the dawn’s early light

Waking up to the sunrise after a good night’s sleep is one of the more satisfying things in life. This is especially true when the night in question was the first of the Trump administration, a night which, naturally, would be filled with uncertainty and unease.

It was entirely possible, I had been warned, that as soon as our new President was sworn in, all manner of terrible things were liable to happen. While I may not be a pessimist, I admit to having been slightly anxious about the chance of calamity. After all, this website had only launched yesterday morning! I would have been inconsolable if civilization as we know it had ended before I got around to posting a single paragraph.

Thankfully, the world was still more or less the same as it was yesterday, which meant I could write down my first thoughts for this blog in relative peace. Of course, I hadn’t noticed that the plastic bag the newspaper comes in was wet. When I set it down on the table, water got all over the placemat. But I didn’t let this faze me; surely it was just a slight hiccup in an otherwise perfect morning.

Upon opening the pantry, I discovered that the Honey Nut Cheerios container was empty, which meant enduring the long trek into the garage for another box. Then, there was only half a glass of orange juice remaining in the carton, so I was forced to ration it to ensure it lasted through the entirety of breakfast. The likelihood of these incidents being tied to the occupant of the White House seemed poor, but I vowed to keep watch for a continuing pattern.

After eating, I got in the shower. There is a clear correlation between being under a steady stream of hot water and thinking clearly, and I had a lot of thinking to do. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that I had squeezed more shampoo than usual into my hand. When I began to wash my hair, a rather large drop fell into my left eye, jolting me from my thoughts.

At this point, I didn’t know what to do. Three minor inconveniences in one day I could write off as mere coincidence, but a fourth? Perhaps the new President was the cause of my miserable morning, casting horrible spells in my direction from his perch atop the government. Faced with this new revelation, I proceeded as any rational person would: forgo the rest of the day, and instead retire to the safety of my bed. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, hopeful for what the dawn’s early light would bring.