In the Way of Explanation
On the recommendation of a mutual friend (whom we will call “Dr Vanderburg”), a far-flung person (whom we will call “Cuthbert”) began corresponding.
This is not the kind of invitation I tend to accept.
You two have so much in common!
Right.
It turns out, the correspondence is of great interest and entertainment. Let’s not tell Dr Vanderburg.
Apparently, in my correspondence with Cuthbert, who is given to riding bicycles, being run over by cars and breaking bones, I have written a good deal about meeting people in lines, including a recent encounter with Samantha Power, an advisor to the President and responsible to run the Office of Multilateral Affairs and Human Rights. This led Cuthbert to write,
What is your criteria for choosing a line? Does it need to be of a certain length, formed in a certain geometric pattern, or residing in a certain neighborhood? Group think psychology teaches us that a crowd draws a crowd; does this mean that a line is a self-perpetuating entity? What a fascinating life you lead.
Cuthbert asks what is perhaps the most searing and searching question we can ask ourselves in this life:
What does one look for in a line?
I feel I should respond simply because I am interested in the question. But, there are other reasons to respond. As Cuthbert notes, I (we) spend a good deal of time in lines. And, given the growing collection of mis-haps and broken bones to which Cuthbert refers in what I would describe as our nascent correspondence, I feel he might consider standing in more lines. I have a feeling there are more tales of accidents and more broken bones to come. Standing in line can can be a rewarding—and relatively safe—enterprise, in most cases an acknowledged alternative to being run over.
What follows is a non-exclusive list of things one might consider vis-a-vis a line.
What does one look for in a line?
•It’s Existence
Tautological, perhaps. But, it is important to look for a line that in fact exists. This is as opposed to any number of alternate means of gathering—for instance milling about in some loose agglomeration that better resembles a circular grouping of persons and connoting, however atavistically, our beginnings. I have loafed about in enough parking lots in my life to know the likelihood of some interesting—rather than merely useful—result is low.
•Purpose
It is important for the line have some cause and goal. Standing in a line for no apparent reason or for its own sake is a gloomy enterprise with needless existential implications. One wants to be in a line for a reason—tickets to see “Manhattan,” for example, or to secure ice cream or to leap off a diving board into a pool of water waiting below.
•Happy—or at least interesting—purpose (cf. supra at Purpose)
It is tempting to include this with “Purpose” above. But, I think there is good reason to distinguish.
A line may have a cause and goal which are happy, entirely arbitrary or somewhere in between. It makes a great deal of difference which is at issue.
One wants a line for a happy purpose. Consider the difference between standing in line at Barney Greengrass to get a piece of cheesecake, for example, and standing in line to be shot for treason. In which line do you expect the better result? Well, being smart, you say, “it depends.” From the executioner’s standpoint, each line might offer equivalent value. But, to the person standing in line—the recipient of the cheesecake or the bullet—I would wager the differences are too obvious to explain.
Why concern oneself with this issue?
Well, what one may derive from being in line (in addition to its intended purpose) relates directly to its purpose and, further, its happy purpose. I stood in plenty of lines in the Soviet Union. It was a dreary exercise, the dreariness of which was exacerbated by the real chance the line (1) had no purpose or (2) would have its purpose extinguished before no small number of its occupants reached its end. The likelihood of needless existential crisis (or, at a minimum, a trying and self-referential conversation about the line itself) is high.
•Consaguinity
It is important that the persons in line have some loosely similar (though not exclusive) purpose for being there. In a way, this relates to purpose. A collection of traitors standing in line to be executed might have a perfectly fine time, talking divertingly about the weather and other news of the day. Were I to stand in line with them, not being a traitor, I might fidget and ask pesky questions about impending events, whether the state met its Constitutional requirements to prove treason, the adequacy of proceedings to prove the Constitutional elements, etc. Not being familiar or comfortable with the line’s purpose, my inapt questions might set my fellow line occupants on edge—kill the buzz, as it were.
•Noteworthiness
At the same time that one wants a certain measure of similarity of purpose to bond the persons standing in the line one joins, it is also important that a person or persons of interest—perhaps unusual interest—populates the line. It is, in this regard, important that the line not be overpopulated. Standing in line with Churchill, George Clooney, Agnes Martin, Minnesota Fats and Cher would be pointless.
Noteworthiness is both a general and specific characteristic. So, for example, a line in which Samantha Power stands is, generally speaking, of more interest than one in which she does not stand. Moreover, a line in which Ms Power stands is more interesting to me than is a line in which stands Bob Eubanks in part because Ms Power’s thinking is of specific interest to me and in part because I find Mr Eubanks alarming.
•A Keen Eye & Preparation
But for their rabid hatred of homosexuals, their penchant for buggery and the deeply boring nature of “activities” I endured in the one meeting I was forced to attend as a young person, I think the Boy Scouts motto—”Be Prepared”—is a good one and may be applied usefully here.
One needs to be able to recognize that Ms Power or Mr Eubanks is standing in line and act accordingly. Is one or the other of interest? Do one have something interesting to say? Is one scared of them?
In my case, on seeing Ms Power standing in line, I would choose that line instead of a line in which stands Mr Eubanks. Or, as was the case, I might find myself pleased to discover I am standing in line with Ms Power and not so pleased about standing in line with Mr Eubanks. (It should be noted that the unfavorable mention of Mr Eubanks elicited from Cuthbert a truly enlightening tract on the names and consequence of game show hosts through history. I can only hope Cuthbert finds a suitable publisher. It is information the world should know and it may make a noteworthy contribution to standing in line.)
Once in line, one is faced with the challenge of engaging the person of interest in some conversation. And so, that moment between recognition—and let’s call it joinder—is essential. It is the time in which one must develop something of interest to say.
In these circumstances, I think it is wise to (1) ask a question and (2) be pleasant. Asserting to Ms Power that there is no moral basis for foreign relations, its animating principle being force, may well and understandably set her on edge. (Telling Mr Eubanks he is alarming no doubt runs the same risk.) This isn’t a conference at which the line has been invited to test one another’s views on world affairs (unless it is, in which case the assertion may have some better context and so better effect). Rather, this is an opportunity to engage someone of interest in a way that invites them to share something of interest in the brief (or not so brief) time you find yourselves in the same space and time.
It is useful to have questions in mind in advance. This is not to say that one would or could imagine the specific line in which one finds oneself. It is to say that one can imagine likely scenarios and prepare accordingly.
So, for example, ask yourself what you might do were you in line at the grocery with Churchill. These are questions useful not only if you find yourself in line with Churchill but if you find yourself in line with someone of his ilk and you cannot think of something to say that is more specifically related to that other person. Thus, one could ask of Churchill and Stalin equally,
Boy! Weren’t those Nazis a bunch of fuckers?
•Luck
It goes without saying, I think, that one needs to be in the right place and the right time. This takes some luck. But, as Virgil reminds us,
fortune favors the bold.
One must strike out both to find a line of interest and, once in it, to pursue the opportunity it presents with vim and vigor.
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