Every now and then somebody in this or that group with us asks, “If you could have dinner with four famous people, who would you pick?”
The second and perhaps more difficult question to answer although it is almost never asked is, “What would you talk about?” You. Me.
Did you ever think about how hard a decision it would be for normal people like us to take part in such a luncheon conversation. Wouldn’t most of us feel so inferior to our lunchmates that we would be afraid of sounding like an idiot if we opened our mouths?
It’s a difficult question for your discussion leader here because I probably wouldn’t just talk with somebody. I’d interview them. I say this because a friend from out of town and I were enjoying some ice cream at Central Dairy and a young man and his young daughter asked if they could share the table with us. It turned out that he is Missouri’s Strongest Man, ranks something like 14th in the world. I thought I was engaging in a conversation with him about his, uh, work. But my friend who watched what was happening thought that I had slipped into full interview mode.
Once a reporter, always a reporter. But reporters live to get a story and I wanted to hear this fellow’s story.
But what if you could sit at a table with Einstein, Lincoln, Jesus, and George Clooney or Thomas Jefferson? Assuming you were not a complete puddle of intellectual intimidation and inadequacy in such a gathering, what WOULD you talk about?
But why talk? Listening to a First Century Jew and his concepts of the physical and spiritual world and the universe talking to a Twentieth-Century Jew and his concept of of the theoretical and real world, with Jefferson and his concepts of the Divinity (he compiled a Bible that removed all of the mysticism around Jesus) and freedom, with Lincoln and his concepts of freedom, spirituality, and unity—and all of their experiences in people’s search for meaning.
George Clooney? Based on one very brief interaction with him as well as sharing a big table with his father in a two-day seminar on journalism (his father, Nick, was a television newsman in Cincinnati for many years), I think he would add a Twenty-first Century dimension to the entire conversation—perhaps looking at mass media circulation of ideas that are social, political, spiritual, scientific, and practical.
What would they eat? And what kind of wine would they want?
I confess that for years I have wanted to talk to retired professional athletes about what replaced the competitive fire that propelled them to the top level of their sports when they realized their skills were just not enough to continue at the highest level. The fire doesn’t just go out the day their retirement is announced, I’m sure.
I know some common, ordinary folks who retire and they’re lost because they no longer fit in the world that sustained them for 30 or 40 or 50 years. What if you’re an elite athlete? Do retired major leaguers switch to slow-pitch softball? Do reired NBA players sign up for the city basketball league? When Wimbledon champions abandons pro tennis, do they find somebody at the local YMCA to play with?
For MY fantasy lunch, however, I don’t know that I’d pick famous people. I think I’d like to ask my dad (who died before it occurred to me to record his life story), my great-grandfather who homesteaded in Kansas in the 1870s, and the original immigrants that were my ancestors about why they came here.
I’m curious about the stars of major league sports and all of the others. But I would rather know what there is about the ancestors that remains part of my appearance, my movements, my inclinations, and my character.
But then I think about turning this scenario around. So—
Here’s an assignment for you.
Think of what you would like to ask your grandparents or your great grandparents. Then imagine it’s YOUR grandchildren or great-grandchildren asking the same things of you. And write down your answers and give it to them or to a local or state historical or generalogical society so that they can find you when they want to know about you. Believe it or not, you will be important to them.
Have lunch with yourself. You’re important enough to buy lunch for yourself and answer your own questions. You might surprise yourself with your answers. And your great-grandchildren will be fascinated by them.