Its own little world (6/1/05)

You've probably heard of the "Stockholm Syndrome."

That's a psychological effect which occurs when people who have been taken hostage start to identify with and side with the very people who took them hostage.

At our house, we keep track of the "Stratford Syndrome."

I think Sally's the one who gave it that name, but all of us have recognized it.

For 15 years now, our family has intermittently made the trek north to Stratford, Ontario, for its theater festival.

The Shakespeare performances are world-class, and all of the productions are first-rate.

We don't go every year. It's a seven-hour drive from Jay County to Stratford. But we've made nine to ten trips over the years.

And in those trips, we've encountered the "Stratford Syndrome."

Stratford, as a place, is particularly well-suited to this particular quirk of human nature.

It's a pretty ordinary small city, population about 30,000. Its flat landscape is reminiscent of Indiana, and its farming-and-manufacturing economy is familiar as well. But it's a different country at the same time, with different currency, Celsius instead of Fahrenheit on the thermometer, and an accent all its own.

So, to an American visitor, it can sometimes have a dream-like quality, simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar.

Add to that the fact that Stratford attracts large numbers of tour groups from two different but oddly similar segments of the population: Students and retirees.

Their differences are obvious, but they also represent the two most self-absorbed demographic groups imaginable.

What does that have to do with the "Stratford Syndrome"?

Everything.

Those who are afflicted are in their own little world, but at the same time they are in a crowd.

And their own little world can literally get in the way.

How do you spot a person beset by the "Stratford Syndrome"?

Easy.

They're the folks who step out of the exit and immediately stop, oblivious to the fact that hundreds of people behind them are also trying to exit.

They're the ones who decide the best place to wait for their friends is in the middle of the doorway.

They're the ones whose first movement at intermission is into the aisle, where they then stop to collect their thoughts while others wait.

To be fair, of course, this isn't limited to Stratford.

Nor is it limited to students and retirees — though I'd swear they suffer in greater numbers.

You've seen the same behavior yourself even if you've never been to Stratford and can't imagine going there.

You've seen it at the top of the escalator — or the bottom — during the rush of Christmas shopping, when someone decides that's the perfect place to hold a conference about Grandpa's sweater size.

You've seen it in the bleachers of high school basketball games, when excited fans have stood up — and remained standing long after the excitement has passed — blocking the view of the folks behind them.

You've seen it at concession stands when the line is suddenly invisible, even though you've been waiting five minutes.

Maybe "Stratford Syndrome" is an unfair name.

Stockholm gets a bad rap from "Stockholm Syndrome."

Let's just call it what it is: Cluelessness.[[In-content Ad]]