Wednesday, 10 October 2001 | Fancy restaurant

I think there was a point, probably during late childhood, when we began to branch, when we became selective and critical and started to cluster in like-minded groups, divided by brand-names and neighborhoods, and, eventually, by pop culture and social politics. It's easy to forget about the others when you don't interact with them. It's easy for them to forget about me.

Tonight I ate dinner with an unlikely group of people, most of whom I'd never met before. All of them were very friendly, and we got along fine. But one of us stayed quiet. A few of the things that I overheard: I'm a country boy. I would have a deer-head on the wall, if she'd let me. I love Bush! Did you hear Rosie O'Donnell say she's sorry that she ever said anything bad about him? That made me cry. I was lying in the tanning bed when the World Trade Center was struck. Yeah, we have to do these tedious EPA regulation things that really shouldn't be bothered with...

The meal was good but laughably expensive, and I felt out-of-place among the wealthy and frivolous. I was worried about the fork issue, and I couldn't help translating the cost of my meal into CDs and gasoline.