There are some sayings that drive me a little crazy. Some sayings I am so sick of that each time I hear themd I come one step closer to snapping and letting lose on whomever opened their mouth to utter the sentence.
One of those sayings is “Wow, its a small world isn’t it?”
For me its always, always, always the same thing. A friend of mine was in Toronto (a city 35 minutes away by car) or Hamiton (the city in which I live) and they happen to run into some stranger through some extremely predictable series of events and at one point or another it is revealed that they have me in common as a friend. Yippee.
This is all fine and dandy but when this story is ever retold it always ends with, “Wow, its a small world isn’t it?”
Its typically at this point that I am ready to scream.
No! NO ITS NOT A SMALL WORLD!
Its a big world.
A huge world actually, with over six billion people.
You met this person within a thirty minute drive from where I sleep in the same city I was born.
Its a coincidence that happens everyday within every city all over the world. People meet each other. Those people have already met other people, and will likely continue meeting more people.
Chances are, at one point or another you will meet someone who has at one point or another met someone else you have also met. And the longer you live somewhere the more likely it becomes you will have met a lot of people from that area, who will likely know people you have met from the same area. This process is called “not living in your basement.”
However, I may think different in some scenarios:
For example, if you happen to be traveling through the desert in Morocco one day and a sandstorm destroys your means of transportation. You are forced to then walk into the horizon alone surviving for days with only a bottle of water and a snickers bar before you pass out in the sand not sure if you will ever wake up.
Thankfully, you awake in a small cave to the man who has apparently saved your life. He sees your Molson Canadian t-shirt and volunteers the information that he only saved your life because the one Canadian he met during his only trip into a small Moroccan town was very kind to him and so he wanted to return the favour. He asked you if you might know this Canadian, and you almost laugh at the request but wish to humour this man’s request.
If this man then tells you, “his name was Michael Cecchin”, I will be the one to say;
“Holy shit, wow, it truly is a small world isn’t it?”
Otherwise, its just a funny little story..