Dave's Place

I like my coffee, and I make sure I get it at least a couple times a day. One of the guys in my office earnestly laid out a proposal once that I get a coffee maker to set up by my desk, so I could get more of it and not run out. He didn’t quite get it – as much as I like the coffee, what I really like is an excuse to get out of the office and break up the afternoon a bit. My regular afternoon coffee break is regular more for that reason than for any caffeine addiction.
So naturally, wherever I go to get my afternoon cuppa, I have a tendency to get to know the people who work there. My current regular stop is a Dunkin’ Donuts a few blocks down the road; when there isn’t a new person at the counter (which happens all too often, I’m afraid), they have my regular coffee ready for me before I say a word. This sometimes greatly impresses the other customers. I rather enjoy the efficiency myself, and I get to stretch my legs, see the sun for a few minutes, and go back to work with a fresh cup in hand.
But before I frequented this Dunkin’ Donuts, there was a little privately owned 7-11 type convenience store only two lots down from my office. It was one of those self serve places, so no chance of having my coffee ready for me…but still, the people who regularly worked the afternoon shift knew me. They greeted me with a friendly smile, and a hello. It was pleasant while the place managed to stay alive. One of the cashiers was a young girl, I’d say seventeen or eighteen, probably just out of high school or perhaps I only got to know her over the summer. She stuck in my mind for two reasons: first, she was kind of shy and quiet, and there is something ironically attention drawing about people who are shy in a public setting; second, she was beautiful. That, of course, got her a whole lot more attention than she was likely very comfortable with, from other customers. But since I was an older guy, and clearly not making any moves on her, she was particularly friendly with me. I was safe, kind of like an older uncle coming to visit. It annoyed the single guys who came there, since she would barely acknowledge them. It amused me that they didn’t get it.
Well, the place was doomed from the start really. Several stores had opened and closed there. The area was flooded with 7-11’s, Quick Checks, and Dunkin’ Donuts. The owner told me the rent was insane, and he wasn’t sure if he could stay open. They lasted about a year. When the place inevitably closed down, I missed the folks I got to know there, but honestly, they slipped from my mind quickly enough. That’s just the way those things go.
Some months went by, then a year. I hadn’t really thought about the place in a while, having adjusted to paying twice as much for my afternoon coffee. Until, one day, I stepped into the Dunkin’ Donuts, and one of the customers cheerfully greeted me, asked how I was doing, etc. It was a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She was hanging off the arm her boyfriend, wearing tight, tight jeans and a really skimpy blouse that showed a lot of skin. She was kind of pretty, nothing that would have attracted any extra attention. Frankly, the tone of how she was dressed overpowered any of her features – the volume was just too high. I politely greeted her in return, exchanged a few pleasantries, and bemusedly went on my way, wondering who she thought I was. The girl was a stranger to me, so I thought. It wasn’t until I was halfway back to the office that I realized her face was familiar, and that it was the cashier girl from the the old coffee shop that went out of business.
I was stunned. When she worked in the old shop, I had thought she was beautiful. It made no difference to me in the usual way between man and woman, because I was happily married, and she was a kid. But still, you don’t stop noticing such things because you aren’t inclined to act on them. But this new version of her I didn’t even recognize. The beauty was still there somewhere, I’m sure, but it was positively smothered by sexiness.The difference was nothing short of amazing, and, you know, it wasn’t a good one. She was a kid, and you have to expect kids to make some misjudgements as they grow up, but to me this one seemed particularly grievous. Perhaps her boyfriend liked her new look, but to my eyes, it was nothing but a loss.
What provokes someone to toss away a real gift, and trade it for glitter? How can mere sexy compare to true beauty and grace? And why did this particular incident bother me as much as it did? It’s not like this one girl is the only person to have ever fallen for that trap – the world is full of them. You only need to take a stroll in the local shopping mall when school is out to know what I’m talking about. I suppose in a way I started thinking of her like I really was her older uncle…but when push comes to shove, I was just a guy who bought coffee from her. It’s no business of mine, but I can’t help but grieve a little, and hope she comes to her senses before she makes any bigger mistakes.

I can’t speak as to the rest of the world, though I expect it’s true of much of the industrialized world; I can say for certain, however, that Americans have a big problem.
Well heck, we have a lot of problems. But the one that keeps impressing me more and more these days relates to the absolute glut of information that is available to us. The Internet, of course, is a fount of such knowledge: what is happening in the world, everywhere in the world, and exactly what everyone who reports on it thinks about it. It’s overwhelming at times, and it defies the ability of anyone to gain more than a cursory familiarity with any particular topic. And therein lies the trouble. We know so much about so many things (or could if we chose to), that it’s next to impossible to truly gain anything resembling expert knowledge in a specific area. But it doesn’t even slow the opinion-making process down, not one bit. We blithely and unstoppably go on and on and on, about things of which we only know a tiny bit.
I am reminded of a mailing I once got in the very beginnnings of the Information Age as we know it. The mailing was in regard to the “new” UPC codes that were being imprinted on merchandise so that cash register scanners could identify and price them. The point of the mailing was that imbedded in every UPC code was the number 666, and that they were the precursor to the Biblical “Mark of the Beast.” The tone of the pamphlet was extremely alarmist. I looked into what the mailing said, and saw how they drew that conclusion. Sure enough, every UPC code had an identical set of lines beginning, middle and end that looked just like the lines that form the numeral six in the same code. But even to my inexpert eyes, it only took a few moments of puzzling over it to realize that these lines only shared a partial congruence to the lines for then number six. I deduced, and later was able to verify, they were simply markers for the scanner to find its place, and had no real relation to the numeral six whatsoever, much less the 666 of the Beast.
So what was the alarm all about? Someone with a very little bit of knowledge (laughably little) looked at some UPC codes, jumped to a conclusion, and essentially went ballistic over that conclusion. This person went through considerable expense to spread this opinion around, and no doubt gained many followers. What’s reall scary is that people still persist in that opinion, even though it has been clearly demonstrated to be an unintended congruence.
A newscast (or a weblog) reports a bit of information about something happening somewhere. Someone without a detailed knowledge of the subject expounds on it, and draws conclusions. Others, who respect this second party, accept those conclusion and proliferate them. It goes on and on, sometimes becoming a disinformational juggernaut. And why does this happen? Because we all believe we know more than we actually do. Just google for the word “hoax,” and you will see just how many people fall for intentional disinformation. But I would like to submit, far, far more fall for unintentional disinformation, and it is far more damaging. I won’t even get into “urban legends,” and the like.
We have been led to believe that we are all experts. That we know “enough” to make judgements that are better than those of people who have studied the issue all their lives. We are completely confident that the President (or our least favorite politician of any ilk) is an idiot, and how “obvious” it is…that people of other ethnic groups in other countries are “sick,” or “backwards,” and all we need to do is educate them, and they will be just like us. Furthermore, once we settle on an opinion, it’s like we marry it – only death will do us part, all facts contrary notwithstanding.
This is nothing but sheer intellectual arrogance, and the sooner we come to terms with our very real intellectual (and opinion making) limits, the better off we will be. We need to accept that we don’t realy know very much about a great many things. We need to accept that there are experts and professionals who know more than we do, and are better capable (even though they slip up sometimes too) than we are at making evaluations based on that knowledge. And, for the sake of all that’s good, we need to tone down the forest of rhetoric that has grown from a few weeds of innuendo and rumor. If we must be experts, let’s truly become experts by focusing on just a few things…and leave the rest for others to become experts on. And then *gasp* to trust them.

Today, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is hosting a Time Traveler Convention. Supposedly inspired by a comic strip, this genuine event will feature several speakers from the MIT physics professorial staff. I presume, since the event has garnered national media attention, it will be packed to capacity with gawkers from the present time, hoping an actual time traveler or two might even show up.
I can’t help but be reminded of an observation I have made many, many times: intelligence and common sense, in far too many people, are inversely proportional to each other.
The folks at MIT really ought to know better. If time travel ever becomes a technological possibility, it’s quite obvious that time travelers will not be showing up at this event. First of all, the idea has already been implemented to no effect (Destination Day). Secondly, since there are no verifiable records of any time-travelers ever appearing in our time, it is not in any way reasonable to assume they will be willing or able to show up for a “convention.” If they haven’t shown up elsewhere, they either do not exist, are not permitted to appear in any recordable fashion, or cannot interact with a time period not their own. All this event will accomplish is to gather a group of techno-dreamers together to commisserate over the lack of real time travelers, and burn up some daylight. Oh, and consume the refreshments.
So why exactly would an intelligent person organize such a thing? It’s likely, though no one has come out and said it, that it is to some degree, tongue-in-cheek. We are talking college students here. But why not back down when suddenly it attracted the media limelight? Well, what if a time traveler (or several) does show up?
You see, it’s all about hope. It’s about people disillusioned with harsh reality, and seeing little concrete cause for optimism. Look at what they are offering as suggestions to a time traveler’s proof of legitimacy: “We welcome any sort of proof, but things like a cure for AIDS or cancer, a solution for global poverty, or a cold fusion reactor would be particularly convincing as well as greatly appreciated.”. It’s about wanting a solution that cannot be forseen – a technological deus ex machina. Well, that’s better than despair, and at least they will have an excuse for a party.