What I love?  I love sitting in Starbucks and listening (eavesdropping?!) to the men (yep, they are mostly men) who gather here each day, not in a rush, savoring their coffee, recanting stories about ice storms and rescues, children and weather, fishing rods, engines, politics and violins.  They chit chat with strangers, making kind small talk and, just like magic,  instantly creating community.  Magic.  I feel like a part of this group, though I'm on the perimeter.  It satisfies the yearning to be part of a tribe, and one that makes me believe that folks are kind and not fearful or suspicious.  I love this.  Stories are powerful and sharing them is what keeps us connected even in times of such great disconnection.  Are we over connected, and under storied?