We love our stories, don't we?

Let me tell you a litttle story...

Not that story.

We already know that one.

#Inconceivable

But another story. One that we don't think is a story at all.

There's a part of the world with a bunch of small countries all piled on top of one another. Countries whose borders were drawn 100 years ago by a bunch of British generals who had too much whiskey.

*And French generals who had too much wine.

*And Puerto Rican generals who had too much coquito.

- Viva coquito -

In this part of the world with all the stacked-up countries, these arbitrary borders created a whole lot of problems.

In fact, the running motto became, "I got 99 problems, but stable economic and social development ain't one of 'em."

In one of these countries, things got really bad. 150,000 people died in a civil war, including another 227,000 from its resulting famine. In another, 300,000 died in their own civil war, which included deliberate chemical attacks on civilians by the government itself.

The world was outraged.

They got together, and boldly demanded that their representatives fight to bring down the price of beer at Aldi.

Then, in another country right next door, another war popped off, about 1/10th as bloody, and overnight, everyone became a geopolitical scholar, activist, professor, humanitarian, historian, influencer, field commander, military strategist, archaeologist, war crime tribunal attorney and intelligence official.

With straight faces.

Unironically.

Passionately.

Seriously.

And without a hint of self-reflective irony.

It was the most impressive pivot since every HR business partner and tax attorney became a Yale-certified epidemiologist in 2020, vaccinologist in 2021 and NATO analyst in 2022.

It's ok.

This is what we do.

Our attention gets hijacked, we develop tunnel vision, and "the thing" becomes THE thing.

Until the next thing becomes the thing.

And then the next thing becomes...well...it just becomes Thing.

We allow one thing to capture our imagination at a time, then tell ourselves the story that it's the single most important happening.

The Masalit of Sudan and the Rohingya of Myanmar and the Bissa of Burkina Faso really don't care about the thing we care about.

They've got 99 problems, and....well, they've just got 99 problems.

But we don't care about them. We should. They're people too. We should have rallies and hashtags and the works for them too.

But they don't fit into the story. So they become the cousin who doesn't get invited to Thanksgiving. You know the one. Living in Vancouver or something. The one we just pretend doesn't exist.

Is one story more important than the other?

According to who?

And why?

Ultimately, the stories that matter are the ones we decide on.

But that doesn't mean they actually matter more than the others.

As for me, I've decided that the battle raging in my HOA is the story that matters most.

Grown adults acting like toddlers on a Facebook page is always worth the price of admission.

So...which stories matter to you?

And do they actually matter more than the other ones?

If so, why?

If not, why not?

Food for thought on a Friday.

Now I want food.

Let's eat.