Diversity

Not long ago, I realized my hiking partner and I are a different breed. When my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I replied, “Good quality rain gear from Cabellas.”  One year my hiking partner announced that she wanted snowshoes for Christmas.  (The kind you use for winter hiking.  They used to look like tennis rackets.) That year I decided to put snow shoes on my Christmas list also, so I could go snow shoeing with her.   When my hiking partner turned sixty, she announced that her deepest Christmas wish was to find ice skates under her tree. I was thrilled beyond belief when my husband presented me with a GPS one birthday. 

 While other men haunt Jewelry stores and ask the advice of saleswomen in the lingerie section of department stores, our husbands search the internet for specialized backpacks and research the best type of ski boot. 

This excess of practicality is not entirely our fault.  I remember preparing a candlelight dinner at home one evening.  I stepped out of the dining room for a minute and returned to find all the kitchen and dining room lights on.  “I couldn’t see my food,” my husband kindly explained.  Gail’s husband shows his esteem and devotion by spending hours finding her the right motorcycle.

In this day where the virtues of diversity are extolled, make room for those who don’t care if they tour Europe, stay overnight at the Ritz, attend a cocktail party with celebrities, or own an evening gown.   Contrary to television or movie portrayals, those who prefer chatting with friends around a campfire over the Film Festival at Nice might have a brain or two in their heads.  They might not be called Billy-Bob, wear overalls, and spend the majority of their waking hours guzzling beer.  They might even speak correct English and have an intelligent thought or two.