Years ago, when I was a kid, my dad
had a job where he called on schools selling science equipment. If you used a
microscope or dissected a frog, there was a pretty good chance you got that
equipment from the company my dad worked for. What this meant is that for three
months out of the year, he didn’t have any clients to call on because everyone
was out for summer vacation. So my dad bought a small boat – I won’t call it a
yacht – and we would go to the Bahamas for two months at a time.
My sister and I were either three
years or four years in age difference depending on the time of the year. And
that age gap is pretty substantial. A sixteen-year-old wants nothing to do with
a twelve-year-old. A ten-year-old wants nothing to do with a six-year-old. So
needless to say, my sister and I did not really get along very well.
Like all relationships, that changed
when we got older but at the time, man, you thought it was World War III in our
house at times. But during that two months, when there are four of you on a
24-foot boat and there is nothing in a full 360-degree view but water, you
learn to get along. You have to or you go crazy.
I think we all more or less agreed
to this social contract the day we locked the doors during Zero Hour. I know it doesn’t make for very juicy gossip
or exciting reading but the truth be told is that our group has always gotten
along. There is very little “drama” amongst our small little family.
Again, I think it has to go back to
that external threat. One of my favorite television shows was a program called Married… with Children. It was one of
the most dysfunctional families on television where it seemed like they all
hated each other. There were constant fights and arguments amongst Al, Peggy,
Kelly and Bud Bundy. And yet, when that external threat reared its head against
any member of the family, all the other members would come rushing to their
defense.
If it was just all of us trapped in
this store for an arbitrary reason, I imagine we all might not be so civil
towards one another. But since that crushing, ever-present threat is always
lurking right outside the door, I think it keeps all of us galvanized for that
united us-vs.-them front.
But even the best of friends can be
tried and tested. And I think everyone’s patience is starting to wear a little
thin. I have witnessed more than a few dust ups. It is not brawls or
fistfights. Far from it. But you can see where people’s patience is running
thin regarding things that might not have bothered them six months ago.
It is like the tolerance is not as
high as it used to be and all those little idiosyncrasies are becoming more
annoying than others. It is like when you date a girl. In the beginning, all
those little things don’t matter but slowly, as time progresses, those little
habits start to become glaring things that really grate on your last nerve.
I think we have all been cooped up
for too long. The short days don’t help. The cold weather is hanging around a
little longer than people like (even though it is to our advantage).
But still this is Day 300. In
theory, we only have 65 days left to go and then we will reach the end of our
Year One Plan. Maybe a countdown calendar would do people some good.
