The Rules of Alienation

The Rules of Alienation

Someone else’s dog licked my cell phone today, while I was waiting for my kids in front of the elementary school. The fully-grown golden retriever had no problems reaching the smart phone I clutched in my right hand.   For a second, I though he was going to answer my cell phone.

We recently moved into a small rural area that is somehow magically tucked away from the sprawling, forever-rushing urban metrapolis next door. The town's peacefulness and slower pace were seductive. I've noticed something unusual about our new town, though--it seems to make and break its own rules.  No matter how many reminders the school sends out about the “no dogs on campus” policy, some mothers insist on ruling their universe by continuing to bring dogs to school.   This is the same community that had the Earth Day celebration a week after the fact, because the town hall was booked with some God-knows-what function on the actual day.

Standing in front of the school, I’m surrounded by conversations about play dates, swimming pools, country clubs, etc.  The tight circles of our small town seem impossible for a newcomer like me to penetrate.  Even though I’m surrounded by moms, I feel invisible, as the conversation flows from one established resident to another, somehow making detours to avoid me.  I finally excuse myself from the group I’m next to, pretending to have something on my cell phone that requires my immediate attention.

Oh, yeah, back to the golden retriever who ran up to me only to slobber all over my cell phone.  After a bit of sanitizing, I found it next to impossible to stay angry at him, even though I am not a dog person by any stretch of the imagination.  After all, the golden retriever was being genuinely friendly.  Not something I can say of the moms I was surrounded by.