It also got me thinking about the general amount of sharing that takes place all the time between we humans and the strange shapes that transfer of information can take. For example, you see a car driving down the road that has these three bumper stickers:
1) Obama/Biden 2008 (and 2012). Two stickers, but we will count those as one since it is one President.
2) The Darwin "walking fish".
3) The one that says "Support Your Local Farmers or Watch the Houses Grow" - you know the one with the wheat on it.
We know the following things about this person (who we have never met): they are liberal, they likely don't believe in God, and they enjoy a healthy, locally grown and well-balanced meal. Maybe we don't really "know" that stuff, but we think it based on what we see.
Now you see a different car that has the following three bumper stickers:
1) Romney/Who Was That Young Guy He Ran With Again? No seriously, a Romney/Ryan 2012 sticker.
2) The one that says "Abortion Stops a Beating Heart."
3) The one that says "You Can Keep Your Hope and Your Change - Just Give Me Back My Guns and My Money."
I see these types of cars all the time on my commute, cars that allow you, encourage you to "size up" the owner and draw conclusions about what kind of a person he/she must be. I am always surprised by the type of (what I would consider) private information people are willing to share about themselves with total strangers. What I have realized is that when I know the person sharing it feels like an honor, a gift even to be let in on their life, their beliefs, their interests, etc. When the sharer is a total stranger however, I feel like I am looking through their underwear drawer. It just feels weird and wrong.
I am a Yankee. That means there are certain things I just don't want to talk about. I don't like talking about politics or religion or least of all - a womans right to choose. I don't want to talk about these things with my Mom or my Grandmother, so I sure as shit don't want to talk about them on Facebook or with some perfect stranger. That is not to be confused with not caring, or not having an opinion. I have an opinion and I do care. However, talking about what I would consider very personal issues with people who don't live in my house makes me feel like I am forcing someone to sniff my panties (if I wore them) and that just seems wrong to me.
Based on the literal frenzy that surrounded the last Presidential election I would say that most people don't share my feelings on this topic. The political slamming-down-the-throat of opinions that took place made me want to turn off every electronic device I owned until we had picked a winner. I almost didn't vote (but I did) because the whole process just made me want to barf. I think it's great that we live in a country and a time where we can say whatever the hell we want to whomever the hell we want without fear of consequence. But like I tell my six year old son - just because you can get away with something doesn't mean you should.
Wouldn't it be nice if some things were still just ours? Ours and the people who are absolutely closest to us - the people we trust with our lives? Shouldn't there still be some things that only the bedroom or living room walls know about us? Restraint is sexy. I like the mystery that comes with not knowing every single detail of someone's life...it makes them more interesting to me. It makes me want to get to know them better so that maybe I can be one of the lucky ones, the trusted ones who get to know their innermost personal thoughts. One of the lucky ones who wants to look through their underwear drawer...instead of having my face smashed in it.
So I choose to save some things. I save my most cherished thoughts for myself and my time alone with the people who know me best. And for a dashing half-Korean man in his mid 30's, that I live with, who shall remain nameless - but his initials are Patrick Harvey.
