Where We Came In

There was once a common expression, “This is where we came in.” The meaning was originally quite literal. In the early days of movies – and at least into my childhood in the 1940s – when movies, especially new releases, were still something most people went out to, rather than seeing them at home – most theaters showed the same films (sometimes the same one or even the same two) in a continuous cycle. The whole program might change once a week. This meant that, even if you arrived late, and perhaps missed part of the beginning, if you waited long enough, the same part of the same movie would come on again. So, you’d at least know that you hadn’t missed anything, if the point in the plot was reached at which you could whisper, “This is where we came in.”

Nowadays, of course, it’s only the metaphorical meaning which has much significance, conveying the idea that something (possibly unwelcome) which has happened repeatedly, is about to happen again. For some reason, that concept seems particularly pertinent in politics, especially in countries like the U.S. which have regularly occurring national elections – in our case, every four years. 

Oddly enough, there are at least two other phenomena which are on a four-year cycle – and, even more oddly, they are always the same four years. So, if, for example, you want to be sure if this is a leap year, you can determine the answer by simply asking either if there’s going to be a U.S. presidential election this year, or if the Olympic Games are to be held this summer. 

It’s not quite the same with many other regulars, such as holidays and birthdays, which all tend to be annual. What’s different about birthdays is that they are cumulative, so that what you’re celebrating is not, so to speak, where you came in, but another milestone (or millstone) on your way out.

I myself “came in” on the ninth day of December in 1933. In world events, that was the year in which both Adolf Hitler and Franklin Roosevelt came to power. (And, coincidentally or not, they both stayed in power for an uninterrupted 12 years, and died within two weeks of each other in 1945.)

In American national events, that month of my birth was the same in which Prohibition officially came to an end – after only 13 years implanted in the Federal Constitution – its Repeal having by then secured support in the required number of State legislatures. (Despite what you might consider this baptismal blessing, I have nevertheless been a lifelong teetotaler.)

The place where I came in was called the Caerthillian Nursing home. Located in northwest London, it was a small private institution, where people went to be born. (For what it’s worth, the name Caerthillian was derived from an old Cornish term meaning “related to owls” – which may be as close to wisdom as I’ll ever get.) I didn’t re-visit the spot for some four decades, when I was surprised to find that the same building, as though anticipating my possible future need, had now changed itself into an Old People’s Home. They haven’t yet put up a plaque or statue in honor of my debut appearance, but, if you wish to make a pilgrimage, and are curious to see what’s there now, the address is: 87 Fordwych Road, London NW 2. 

Coming into the world and coming out of it can in many cases be very similar experiences. On both occasions, you get a free ride – but each time, the baggage allowance is very small.

Looking at it from a cosmic perspective, however, where did any of us come in? – Or have we always been here, merely sliding through Time and Space on an endlessly looped tape?

Enough of these speculations! In our little world, the important places for anybody to come in are clearly marked “ENTRANCE” – unless it’s a private home, in which case, there may be, at the front door, a sign of “WELCOME” (usually inscribed, rather ominously, on a mat beneath your feet, for you to trample dirt on). The exceptions are (or used to be, especially in England) large posh homes which had signs indicating where you might find the “SERVANTS’ ENTRANCE” (invariably at the rear) or the “TRADESMAN’S ENTRANCE” (possibly at the side.)

Just in case you lost your place in my convoluted argument, let me assure you that this is not where you came in.