Deer In Headlines II
By Gery Deer
Have you ever considered a microcosm? Chances are you haven’t, but we are exposed to them almost every day. Essentially, a microcosm is anything in miniature that represents something bigger. For our purposes, a microcosm is a small group or community whose characteristics represent a larger one.
We see microcosms everywhere, and we’re usually unaware of them. Some are fictional, existing only in books, movies, television, and theatre. Others are happening around us, whether we’re integrated participants or outside observers. Let’s look at a couple of examples.
Consider the classic TV show “Gilligan’s Island,” which its creator, Sherwood Schwartz, referred to as a social microcosm. It featured seven characters, each representing a different socioeconomic position. Gilligan and the Skipper embodied the working class, while the Professor symbolized academia.
Mr. and Mrs. Howell (the millionaire and his wife) represented the elite, privileged upper crust. Mary Ann, a girl from the heartland, brought an earthy, grounded perspective, and Ginger, the movie star, added a touch of glamour.
Shipwrecked on an island in the middle of the Pacific, the writers put these people in absurdly improbable situations where each demonstrated their own inherent characteristics, however unrealistically. That’s where the comedy came from, and it worked.
Of course, to suspend the disbelief and immerse the viewer into the cartoon-like world, the show generally left out more realistic issues in such a situation. Problems like food, water, clothing, and shelter only arose when a comedic lack of some basic survival needs drove the story. But that’s TV. What about in real life? Where do microcosms exist day-to-day?
Recently, I found myself at a family birthday party in a local bowling alley. The guest of honor was turning 18, and a lively group of teenagers had gathered around the scoring console, ready for a game. As the afternoon progressed, the pitcher of soda ran dry, and the pizza had disappeared. Hunger pangs set in. (Kids eat a lot, wow!) With nothing else to do, I volunteered to make a snack bar run, setting the stage for an interesting observation of a real-life microcosm.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and the place was packed. Nearly every lane was occupied. As I walked along the service area at the back wall, past the shoe rental and pro shop, I suddenly noticed how much real life was happening all around me, and it all registered in my mind with sounds.
When I first realized what I was listening to, I literally froze for a moment. A woman nearly collided with me as she hurried along, balancing a pizza, drinks, and bowling shoes. I was so surprised by how I felt at the moment that I was compelled to step out of the foot traffic, close my eyes, and just listen.
Amidst the chaos, I focused on individual sounds. I heard the familiar thud as bowling balls dropped onto the hardwood floors and the dull rumble as each raced down the lane. Finally, the unmistakable crash of the pins as the ball hit them or the disheartening clunk if it dropped into the gutter.
Above pin resets, hand dryers, and clanking ball returns were the sounds of people living life. This was the microcosm of the moment—celebrations, first dates, families, young, old, and everyone in between.
I opened my eyes, looked around, and tried to put sight with sound. More birthday parties, a small child, with a ramp and dad’s help, making her first attempt to roll the ball. Neither she nor her parents will ever forget that day. A couple of lanes down, several older women chatted and crocheted between frames. One of the women working on a large afghan appeared to be winning.
I was standing among people from many different walks and stages of life. They all had one purpose, albeit the motivations were different. Everyone was there to enjoy the game, be with family and friends, and create lasting memories.
Eventually, I had to complete my mission and get the food back to our group before the teenagers ate their own shoes. But I can still hear those sounds and remember all the life that was being lived on that one normal day at the bowling alley.
The Jamestown Comet 