Just six people away from knowing everyone.
That's what people in the know say.
What "know" I don't know, but I do know I think they're right.
Remember I told you I happened to get on Facebook because I was looking for pictures my friend Dawn posted from Afghanistan when she was stationed there with the Army. I didn't realize her directions were for signing up on a social network I had no intention of joining.
But that's what happened, and now I rather enjoy seeing what other people say. I have no idea how I get to see what they say and even less of an idea how to post anything myself, but there it is, a raft of messages when I pass through on my way to Scrabble. I love playing Scrabble, so I pass through the initial page often.
Imagine my surprise when Iris Maguire wrote a note to Nancy Riehl. Iris has a married name; I just forgot to write it down. I mark that up to wondering how they knew one another. How someone from my past knows someone from my present.
It's not impossible, of course; I'd just never considered it happening. How shortsighted of me.
Lots of things happen without my knowledge.
Like last week, my friend Diana and I were eating a late lunch at Zebb's. As the waitress brought our lunches, the owner, Jeremiah Condon, walks in holding his little girl, who had a Pebbles hairdo. You know, that cute little tail sticking straight in the air. That's the Pebbles hairdo. Pebbles, daughter of Fred and Wilma Flintstone.
Suddenly it dawned on me that the waitress, Autumn Essing, seemed quite young and may not even know about Pebbles. As I was trying to figure out how to explain it to her, she said "my family watched that all the time." Or words to that effect.
Well, mine did too, but I'm several decades older than she.
"We're related to the Hanna," she said. "He was from Fort Dodge."
Now that put a halt to munching french fries.
Right away I borrowed a pen and grabbed a clean napkin, taking notes like crazy. This was too good to pass up. The Hanna of Hanna-Barbera animation fame in Hollywood came from Dodge. I wanted to know more and took several phone numbers.
Autumn went back to work. Diana and I talked over life's problems. We got up to leave and I cleaned the table, tossing the trash in a hole in the counter. Tossing the trash. After lunch, napkins are trash.
You got it. Bye bye napkin.
By the time I realized this error, I went back to the restaurant. Autumn wasn't working. I went back again. Still not there. I'm going back again Friday night and hope to see her. Friday night the Midwest Rock and Soul Revue will be playing from 6 to 8:30 p.m. out on the patio, and I'm going to be there.
With paper and pen in case something else comes up. I won't throw paper away.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.