Trivia
I am in love with a word, and it’s such an unlikely one to fall for.
I am in love with a word, and it’s such an unlikely one to fall for. Trivia. Comes from the Latin tri via, three roads that come together. I’m thinking it must be a busy spot, three roads converging, hard to exchange much of anything beyond “nice day,” or “love the hat,” without being run down by a horse and carriage or a wheelbarrow full of fruit, or a bicycle (when were they invented)? The word was first noted in 1589. No time for serious conversations. Trivia. But it’s often a bit of trivia in the wrong place that rouses me, the ant on my bookcase, the feather drifting past my window. But the thing is, I’ve only got the word itself at the moment, nothing trivial in an unlikely place, no chewing gum in the egg salad, no wet tooth brush behind the groom’s left ear, no broken balloon in the underwear drawer. Nothing of little importance in an unexpected place. Everything where it belongs. Trivia? So perfect a word you are! I love you, but must wait for our next meeting to continue. Please! Wrap a dirty shoelace around that piece of soap, and leave me staring at a story.
Three roads coming together may have been the genius of the traffic circle. I love and serve three roads that merge at different speeds and individual decisions whether to keep going in circles or exit on a path not entered. The professional, the communicator, the gifted adult--all in one package. The individual identifies with one road or the other when entering the traffic circle. Some enter as a professional, flow into the conversation pattern, and take the exit for writers or musicians (the communicators). And so it goes, every day. Hundreds enter, mix it up, and exit. Trivia is the perfect word.
Chewing gum in the egg salad is viscerally trivial. I’m wondering how that got there!
Always pleased by your surprises, Abigail.