Nothing Much Ever Happens

On the front page of the Wall Street Journal today, July 20, there was a story about mens' groups that gather to banter—no agenda, dues, membership, protocol, or anything. For the most part, nothing much ever happens, and that's exactly the way the participants want it. It's refreshing. There are so many pressures to do and accomplish that the banter gatherings are like an oasis in the desert....or an igloo in a storm. Many of the free-from groups come together once a week, some less often. It has been my good fortune to participate in a couple such groups (one at a time) over the last 25 years. I wouldn't trade a minute of the time spent.

One group started unintentionally on a boat of mine. Out of the blue, I invited four salty guys over for a brown-bag lunch on a November, Friday noon long ago. Wind, rain, or shine, the gathering continues even today, nineteen years later. It has moved into the harbor masters' office (I sold my boat), but the beat goes on. The subjects touched on over the years would fill a library. A story at a time, WW II was relived several times over. Most of the guys had been involved. Interestingly, politics was seldom a subject. Boats, boating, and sailing were popular, of course, as were various phony rumors occasionally initiated by the group and fed out into the town. One of the best was that an Indian tribe has obtained permission to build a casino in the empty gravel pit up overlooking the town. Once started, the word traveled fast.