I once had the opportunity to hear Al McGuire at a dinner in
Huntington. He was the keynote speaker at the start of the Tip-Off
Tourney, an oddly-named postseason event that brought together excellent, high school, college, and the occasional pro player (Mike Dunleavy, for one) for a five-day tournament that was well worth twice the amount of money it charged in admission.
McGuire coached Marquette to the NCAA championship in 1977 and went on to a legendary broadcasting career. Some broadcasters can grate on you, but McGuire was never anything other than a joy to listen to. Part of it was his knowledge of the game of basketball; part of it was his personality. His voice always seemed to have a smile in it. It’s hard to believe he died 21 years ago.
As he spoke that evening, he did what he said he routinely did when he comes to a new place — and he’d never been to Huntington before — and tell of his observations of the place. One of the things he noticed about Indiana people, he said, was that when they would sit in a booth at a restaurant, Hoosiers would sit on the same side of the booth, next to each other, instead of across the table from each other.
It was a while ago that he said that, obviously, and I don’t think the observation stands up to scrutiny this many years later. I know my wife and I don’t adhere to McGuire’s observation. It’s a lot easier when one of us has to get out to use the restroom, which is always a
requirement when dining out. We’re old, after all.
My observation, on the other hand, is that couples around these parts tend to hold hands, particularly in the summer, more than they do elsewhere — except in a Sandals TV commercial. (You remember summer, don’t you? It’s distinguished by warm temperatures.)
Anyway, holding hands is more common in the spring, summer, and early fall because we’re not bundled up all the time. You hold hands with a significant other as a display of affection, not because you want to keep them in check like you would a toddler. We have a 16-month-old grandson, and when we’re walking anywhere, somebody has a hand on Liam.
Of course, I’m speaking for myself here, not my wife. She may actually want to keep me close to her side and out of trouble and traffic. Bless her for that.
Still, after 47 years of marriage, it’s something we still do. I enjoy it, for whatever reason it happens.
The classes of romantic entanglement in popular culture are first base, second base, third base, etc. (There may not be crying in baseball, but there apparently is physical attraction.) You can look up for yourself what each of those are supposed to mean, but holding hands is not mentioned in any of the definitions I saw.
If nothing else, it’s a precursor — a first step. I had a steady girlfriend in high school and another one in college. You may be interested in knowing that the one in college said “yes” to a proposal of marriage and we’re still together. I don’t remember how events started with each of the lovely ladies, but I am certain it began with the simple act of holding hands. At one point — I’m not sure who initiated it or what the occasion was — we made that most basic of physical connections and my heart sang.
Why this all came to my mind was that we attended a basketball tournament Saturday where our grandson was playing and our son was coaching. Even though we weren’t bundled up as we walked through the halls of the athletic complex, we were carrying our heavy coats
and hats and gloves and everything else we needed for the day. Our hands were otherwise occupied.
That was on my mind at church Sunday morning when I saw a couple holding hands and they made their way to the sanctuary. They had hung up their coats and their hands were free, and they put them to use.
It’s a simple act and it expresses affection. It’s heartwarming. Spouses of Indiana, give it a try — regardless of what side of the restaurant booth you sit in.
daves@news-banner.com
