Gossip City, The Capitol of Missouri

There's a game I think people should play at parties. It's one that's used a lot in youth groups to teach an important lesson.

You pick three members of your group and send them away. The remaining members make up a story. It could be a story about anything. It doesn't matter. Be imaginitive.

You bring those sent away back one at a time. The first one to come back hears the story from one of the members of the group who made it up. This person who is hearing the story then has to relate the story from memory to the second one to return to the group. The second hearer becomes the next story-teller to the third one sent away, who then has to repeat the story to the original group.

Normally, by the time the story gets back to the original group, it's unrecognizable. It's become so twisted and so many details forgotten, and other "details" filled in, that it's a completely different tale.

This game usually takes about 15 to 20 minutes to play. If this can happen in the space of 20 minutes, with the story only being related to 3 different people, it's no wonder that I've heard rumors about Lesley and I getting married that are completely wrong after they've been through the rumor mill of Jefferson City throughout the last week.

I had dinner with a friend the other night, who informed me that the rumors are that Lesley and I got married in Columbia by Rev. John Prenger and that our reception was at the Capital Plaza Hotel.

The only thing about this that's true is that Lesley and I did get married in Columbia last weekend. Not that it's anybody's business.

I also heard a rumor several weeks ago that I was working at KMart in Jefferson City and am completely miserable. Nothing about that is true. For the record, I'm actually happier now than I can ever remember being in my entire life. And, nothing against KMart, but I don't work there.

Frankly, it surprises and saddens me.

It surprises me because people know the lesson of the story exercise I described above. And yet, no matter how many times the gossip mill of Jefferson City proves to be wrong, people still believe what they hear.

Which leads me to why it saddens me: the reason people still believe what they hear is because they want to believe it. People want "to know." I don't know why. Perhaps people want "to know" because they sincerely care about Lesley and Jacob and me. Or perhaps, for some, people want "to know" for less generous motives. Or perhaps people want "to know" simply because they get some sense of importance out of being able to pass on information that someone else might not know. Whether that information is true or not is completely irrelevant.

In the end, I've decided that it's just not worth me spending a lot of time on. Admittedly, I've spent more time than I should have being angry about all the rumors that have followed me for more than a year now. I guess people are always just going to talk. I hope, though, that people will realize that they shouldn't believe everything they hear. As a matter of fact, people should believe nothing of what they hear, and only half of what they see.

St. Francis de Sales once took a woman who had confessed the sin of gossip up a mountain. Once they were at the top, he opened a feather pillow and allowed the wind to scatter the feathers from the pillow all across the countryside. He then instructed the woman to collect all the feathers. When she responded that she couldn't possibly re-gather all the feathers, he told her that neither could she possibly restore the damage that she had done by her gossiping.