A close call with Freemasonry

A peculiar run-in with allegory.

I got a couple hours to catch up with an old friend the other night.

We talked about how much online community has changed in the last decade. Forums filled with carefully curated and vetted technical knowledge fought diligently to drive delayed gratification through deep, personal research—only to have Zuckerberg become a billionaire by enabling the lazy to get an answer—any answer at all—almost immediately, with zero personal effort.

What tires can I fit?
What turbo should I get?
What’s my car worth?

Gimme. Gimme. Gimme.

We talked about how so many of us once-upon-a-time car guys found ourselves playing with 4WD trucks. Sure, they’re slower, but you can bring more friends and family along to enjoy the fruits of your labor—and when we hard park, it’s usually someplace hard to get to with a most excellent view.

We agreed Monteros are clearly a better fit for me, because the off-road community generally has a nobody-left-behind mentality at its core. When you’re wheeling in the mountains and your buddy breaks down, you pull out all the stops to bring your buddy home.

With cars, well, they’ve likely got cell service and roadside assistance, so peace-out!

It was at this point my friend told me he figured I’d end up in the Shriners or Masons or something like that one of these days. You know, because I’m all about being my brothers’ keeper.

I laughed, because those are groups for old, retired guys who wear silly hats and drive little cars around in parades and… Oh shit. I’ve wanted to build a cyclekart for years. Cyclekarts are little cars. Kinda like Shriners drive in parades.

Nah.

But I’ll be damned if I didn’t randomly find myself checking out a documentary series on the Freemasons on Netflix. I was a half hour into the first episode before I connected the dots back to the call a few nights before.

I don’t know about the aprons and organ music, but I found myself getting really interested. They kept coming back to themes I’ve been trying to live for the better part of a decade—an intentional life, a commitment to service, a deliberate practice of self-improvement.

Not gonna lie. I’ve been doing a lot of reading about the Freemasons.

I had no idea. And I came this close to taking the next step.

Alas, perhaps conveniently, I don’t meet one of their core requirements.

Still. A peculiar run-in with allegory.