Words Like Locusts Flew From Her Fingers

My Tribe

Five years ago, or thereabouts, my spouse decided to fulfill a life-long dream and buy his own sailboat. He didn’t want anything fancy for his first boat (now called “Boat I”), just an easy-to-use day-sailer. Something he could sail by himself if necessary and that wouldn’t terrify me on those occasions when I could be persuaded to go out on the water with him.

Right around this same time, we were also thinking about possibly getting a new vehicle. I’d had my eye on a new model that was just out: the Volvo V70 XC. It’s a 4-wheel-drive boxy wagon sort of thing. Not as big as an SUV, but more practical than a sedan. I’d always liked Volvos. (Though now that they’re owned by Ford, my enthusiasm for them is dwindling. They’re just not…Swedish…anymore. Sigh.)

(This car thing fits into the story. Just wait.)

So, anyway, in pursuit of more data on the kinds of boats available, we decided to head on out to Annapolis, Maryland for the big sailboat show they have every October. The way they work it is that you park your car at the Naval Academy’s football stadium parking lot and there are buses that take you down to the city harbor area where the sailboat show is held.

There we were, wearing our corderoy pants and nubby sweaters, crowded onto a bus with a couple dozen other couples–all about the same age as us, all white, all wearing some version of the same pants/nubby sweater outfits that we had on. Coincidence? Perhaps. When we reached the harbor and disembarked, though, we saw hundreds of other couples: almost all white, almost all about our age, almost all wearing corderoy pants and nubby sweaters.

Whoa. Cue the Twilight Zone music!

As we were wandering around the boat show, we saw that there was a tent where an auto company was advertising its newest vehicle. You’ve already guessed what it was, haven’t you? Of course. It was Volvo–showing off their V70 XC.

It hit me like it never had before. I was part of an easily definable demographic.

The white, 40s, upper middle class, recycling, environmentally aware, PBS-watching, sailboating, Volvo-wanting, corderoy and nubby sweater wearing people.

My Tribe.

When you’re younger, you like to think of yourself as being unique. Nobody feels things the way you feel them. Nobody has your awareness.

It’s kind of startling to realize that you’re not so special after all. Depressing in some ways. Oddly comforting in others.