While wolfing down a sandwich at a little deli a few weeks ago, I overheard part of a conversation between two 30-something businessmen sitting at the table next to me:

1st guy: "…I mean, the guy freed something like 25 or 30 slaves. Of course, it was in exchange for his own freedom. I think the plantation owner killed him for it. But that's what I'm getting at."

2nd guy: "You can't find that kind of desire in people anymore. Nobody is willing to sacrifice…"

1st guy: (interrupting) "That's what I'm saying! Why not? I mean, this was like 70 or 80 years ago, so I understand that times change, but come on."

2nd guy: (long pause) "That whole slave thing was over 200 years ago."

1st guy: "Yeah, well, whatever…"

2nd guy: (another long pause while he takes a bite of sandwich. His words were a little muffled, since he was speaking with food in his mouth) "Did you go to high school, or…?"

The first guy then proceeded to explain how he did indeed go to high school (and college too!), but he took extreme displeasure in the course of history, and therefore his brain refuses to store the chronicles of the past with any semblance of accuracy. He then quickly nose-dived the conversation into a philosophical-like debate about the mustard and rosemary-based potato salad he was eating, as compared to some mayonnaise-based goop his wife makes at home. Granted, everyone has strengths and weaknesses, but I'm thinking he departed from the education system a little too early. Graduation might have been bestowed a tad prematurely. And not just to him alone.

I still swear that the people who drive slow in the fast lane are the reason why we're not all cruising around in sleek hovercrafts here in the dawn of the 21st Century. They've collectively anchored our entire planet in mediocrity. They've stalled technological advancement, which forces idealistic inventors to focus on menial creations like breathable denim hip-huggers, or making a better spork so we can reap more rewards from the 8-piece gastronomical treasures served at fried chicken establishments. I get the feeling sometimes that combustion engines in automobiles should be as defunct as steam-powered nutcrackers. What's holding us back? Some moron in a Lincoln Towncar doing 45 miles an hour on the speedway? Whatever it is, something out there is pulling us all along as slowly as hardened cheese across a dull grater.

I'm not trying to chastise this guy for dating a major fiasco like slavery during the Hoover administration, but it appears that intellectual advancement in this stage of our species is not quite as pronounced as I thought. Maybe I'm wrong anyway, since I wasn't exactly summa cum laude in history myself. Hell, I was a geography major, and if you push me for trivia on state capitals, I'm likely to fold and consult an atlas to answer some of the questions.

We all remember what we choose, I suppose, and our deli friend apparently thought more of themes and intentions than important dates. He's probably a very smart, successful, and likable person who is the life of summer picnic parties. After all, he apparently knows more about potato salad than he does about America's chronicled past.

If time travel ever becomes possible, I have a few teenage moments I'd like to re-live. Because the rest of life hasn't been quite so forgiving with the errors I've made since then.