Conscious Avoidance

I had to do a speech about the Iran Contra Affair in my high school Government class. I asked my mom what it was and she told me to read the newspaper. I fought back saying that if it had already been in the news for months I'd never understand and she explained that journalists recap everything in the first few lines to get people up to date. In my opinion, those first few lines didn't update me on anything. They explained what had been happening recently, but never the outdated news of the current event. Alas, my ignorance of world events began.

These days my friends overseas keep me updated on what's happening overseas. And fortunately, they keep me updated on breaking news in Italy, too. Last week's third message asking if I was going to Bezos' wedding in Venice forced investigation. I don't have a TV and I don't listen to the radio (unless I'm in the mood to stream WBEZ Chicago for NPR). The only news I get online is news I search for. So, I searched for the wedding in Venice; then I googled Bezos.  (I'm not sure if I'm proud or embarrassed to say that the difference between Bezos, Gates, Musk and Zuckerberg has never been clear. And I've only recently discovered Warren Buffet wasn't a singer.)

Last night over dinner with new friends the conversation didn't turn to politics, it began with politics. After incessant interruptions, "Who's that? When was that? And what does that mean?" I decided to crawl back under my rock, contemplate why I'm willfully ignorant and enjoy my pizza. When the other three seemed to be running out of interesting reasons to explain why they used to be sinistra and now they're destra or why they refuse to give up their ideology even if they oppose the current party (I'm sure that's not right, but I wasn't really listening) I suggested they eat their pizzas while I tried to interest them in life.

My friend had mentioned earlier that she'd love to spend a month in Rome. She fantasized walking the streets and learning their names and doing as the Romans do. Then she said she'd love to go to the mountains for a month; or the beach. So, while they chewed, I googled them with questions like, "So, why don't you go? You're retired. If you didn't give all your money to your kids, you'd have enough for a month here and a month there, right?" Her husband (an animated debater on the political situation in Italy) looked down, lacking his vivacious vocabulary and previous passion. He seemed to have used it all up elsewhere. My curious question about his own current events was never answered.

I'm a bit ashamed of my lack of interest in what most deem important in the world around us. But if that passion leads so few to the piazza to fight (and I thank those that do), isn't it passion misspent?  

Perhaps my inquisition at this dinner was with hopes to convince these friends that the emotions they feel about the rights and wrongs of the world around them would reap richer rewards if they were more interested in introspection. I'd rather live under a rock missing Bezos' wedding and the current price of eggs than bury my head in the sand and lose sight of my own life.