Phoebe dug, I cut planks and Sally decked.  The day went well.  Well enough to invite a couple of neighbours over for happy hour.  And then Roger asked, “What does everyone think of the court ruling that seemingly makes brothels legal?”

A discussion then ensued.  At times, it was animated.  At other times, it was heated.  It even got a bit personal now and then………..quite entertaining and definitely reminiscent of our dinner party days in the cul de sac.  Good stuff.

But I mention it because it is now somewhat rare to have a three-round, bantam weight debate served up hot and with wine and cheese like the old days.  To be honest, I was a bit rusty.  Where before, I would instinctively seek out the ‘buttons of my opponent’ so that they could be pushed a bit during the discussion, now I was inclined to sit back and reflect on how ‘the more things change, the more they remain the same.’

You know, the old man’s position.

I found it especially galling when I made a point and it was rebutted by “Well, that may have been true back in the day but nowadays things have changed!”  There is no legitimate rebuttal for that.  You lose because your point of view is ‘old’.  Of course you can fall back on that old privilege of age, “Hey! Deep down we are all the same and we repeat history in different eras but repeat it we still do.  So, don’t play the age card on me!”  

Doesn’t work.  

The real revelation, of course, was how the point of view varied along gender lines.  Even if one made a good point and it struck home, the response was usually, “Well, that may be true in many ways but I still think that it is not true in the majority of the cases.” So, even points well made and graciously accepted were quickly shed like water from a duck.

The whole episode reminded me of city life much more than I realized at the time.  We talked a lot like that in the city.  And we were good at it.  Quick on our feet, acidic of tongue.  In fact, I talked for a living, really.  In the city, you don’t make things like decks and bread and garden boxes for a living.  You talk on the phone, push paper and file it away.  It is real, of course, but it is less physically real. 

I distinctly remember when we lived in False Creek and, while sitting in the cockpit of our boat, we noted that ‘as far as the eye could see, no one made anything.  They just shuffled paper or worked on computers. Or talked.’ 

I remember equally well while we were building the house, Sally turning to me with a look of fatigue and saying, “I can’t believe you have to build a house one nail at a time!”

That, in a nutshell, is the essence of the difference for us.  One was mind-living in a city-scape, this one is a physical living in a land and seascape.  One is tactile, the other intellectual. 

And the difference is profound.