The Joys of Insignificance

In which a soda and water lead to stories

I’m still wandering through the back catalog of images from 2023 and happened upon this tranquil scene of a soda and water from Burlington, Vermont. Indeed, this assembly is nothing extraordinary; they’re just beverages. But, they dredge up some fun times I’ve had within Vermont and provide a foil for sitting down and telling stories.

I used to work for a large networking company in a role that gave me global oversight of a team of subject matter experts. Given that I wasn’t a networking guy by trade or training, the fit was slightly less obvious than you’d think, but I had a particular set of skills complementary to the mission. Oh, and the fact that I liked to show up in person was also meaningful. Occasionally, however, some exciting logistics at play ended up causing quite a lot of problems.

We had a large training facility in Bridgewater, New Jersey, even though the corporate offices were in Sunnyvale, California, and Westford, Massachusetts. This was due to our long history with the telecoms AT&T, Bell, Verizon, Sprint, MCI, et al. and their general presence in and around the Bridgewater area. Occasionally, we’d host training and integration sessions and regional team meetings there, so I often drove down to NJ to break bread and spend time with the incredible people I worked with.

Over the years that I’ve made this trip, I’ve driven rental cars, forgotten valuable pieces of clothing (shoes, socks, shirts), left equipment in the labs that were mine, and other bits and pieces. I experienced the joys of filling up at a NJ gas station (I didn’t know you couldn’t pump your gas) and the delightful skill with which NJ drivers navigated the highways and byways of their so-called “Garden State.”

One particular journey (which is where VT comes into play) had me driving from MA to NJ for a series of meetings and then, because schedules were what they were, hauling my ponderous ass up through Albany to Burlington for a collection of meetings with local universities and colleges.

Now, I’ve received a few traffic violations in my days, all of them being for speeding on highways. I’ve been pulled over in Texas, New York, Ohio, Massachusetts, and Iceland, but I’ve never quite had the experience of comedic entrapment like I did in Vermont.

We’ve all seen or can imagine the images of the police hiding their car behind a billboard, radar gun in hand, waiting for the unfortunate venturer to come blazing by in a cloud of glory. The lights go on, the police pull out, and within minutes, our brave adventurer is on the shoulder, license, and car insurance in hand, waiting for the dispensation of justice. It’s a divine comedy when it happens to others (and when they richly deserve it).

It’s much less funny when it happens to you during the middle of winter, in the dark, after many hours behind the wheel of a rental car. It’s much less funny when you determine that the speed limit changed from 55 to 35 and the police were a scant 5 metres behind the sign. It’s much less amusing when you look at the assessed ticket value and realize that the cost of your trip went up considerably, and your insurance would, too.

I can look back on this moment with a bit of humour because I know I was at fault for it. I’ve since spent a lot of time driving through that verdant state with different cars and at varying speeds, exceeding the speed limit. I’ve also realized that Waze and common sense can be powerful tools to ensure you don’t receive a fine for carelessness.

Soda and water are nothing special- they’re beverages, after all. However, they invite memories and moments of past experiences into a retelling that, even though banal and ordinary, still brings us that much closer to understanding ourselves and the world around us. I love these insignificant things I encounter because they mean that I was there, I existed, I experienced something. I love them for everything they represent, even if I must tread through some buried memories.

I hope you also find the stories behind the insignificant and the delight in the banal. As you work towards your weekend and the joys of shaking off the corporate bonds for a little while, perhaps look back into your past at the moments when something as small as a glass of water, a cold beer, or soda gave rise to a more remarkable story than once thought.

May it ever be so.