Small World

     Although my street was so flooded on Thursday morning that a taxi couldn't get to my house, American Airlines insisted that my 9:30 a.m. flight would depart on time.  Of course as soon as I arrived at the airport, they changed their minds.
     It turned into one of those Chinese water torture delays.  First they told us we were leaving at 11:00, and then 1:00, and then 2:30, and then 4:30. Those of us waiting at gate H6 had the chance to get quite friendly.  I struck up a conversation with a lovely couple in their 70's who lived in the north suburbs and were Jewish.
     Between Jews who live in the same city, there is never more than one degree of separation.  We discovered that the husband went to high school with my mother, their synagogue director had been my Hebrew school teacher, and their granddaughter danced in the same troupe that I had back in high school.
     This, I always tell my children, is why you must be nice to everyone.  The person whose parking space you steal will turn out to be your grandmother's next door neighbor.  When she tells your grandmother that you stole her space, your quick trip to the Jewel for lunchmeat will turn out to be the most shameful thing you have done in your life, and the reason you are not in the will.
     While these connections occur often in my hometown, Jewish Geography is also an international game.  Several years ago, my husband and I decided to take a cruise during the two weeks of the summer when both our boys were away at overnight camp.  Our destination was not that important--our primary criteria was to leave on July 1 and return on July 15.
     We found a discounted cabin on a Celebrity cruise with stops in Helsinki, Coppenhagen, Oslo, and several other northern European cities. My mother-in-law, who lived in a Boynton Beach condominium development called Platina, mentioned that she'd heard in the card room while playing mahjong that two acquaintances were going on a cruise to some of those same cities.  She did not know the name of their cruise line, or where they were departing from, or even when they were departing.  At the time, this did not qualify as "information."
     When we arrived on the ship, we realized that there were very few Americans on board, and even fewer people under 70.  Every time we saw a younger couple, we walked over and eavesdropped to hear what language they were speaking.
     One day while sailing in the Baltic Sea we saw two tiny elderly women who were wearing the same type of colorful jogging suits my mother-in-law wore.  They were carrying purses that were quite popular at the Festival Flea Market.  We had not met anyone even remotely familiar in two weeks, and my husband decided to find out if these were the ladies from Florida.
     "Hello," he said.
     Neither woman responded.
     "My name is Joel Solomon.  By any chance do you ladies live at Platina?"
     The ladies remained silent.  I thought that these women were probably with the German choir group that was on board and spoke no English.
     Joel was not deterred.  "I'm Helen Solomon's son."
     The two women looked at each other, and then looked at my husband.
     Finally, the shorter of the two women spoke.
     "Are you the doctor?"
     My husband smiled.  "No," he said, "that's my brother."
     The women nodded.
     Joel said, "I'm the lawyer.  Has she ever mentioned me?"