Last summer an old friend shared the politics of attending his 35th High School reunion:
Who makes the most money
Drives the nicest car
Has the most hair
The most attractive wife.
I stopped him there, but he didn’t blink. Didn’t notice that I swallowed, held my breath. Looked at him differently.
“Really?” I said. “Is that still a thing?”
He assured me it was, without an ounce of realization of what it would feel like to still be considered commodity at the age of 50+.
Didn’t realize that despite our friendship, our world travels, our civic-minded spirits–that we were on different sides–of the coin.