You don't say
Wednesday, July 7, 2010 at 10:44PM 
I'm hyper-verbal. Means I talk a lot.
Not making excuses, or asking you to understand or even accept me.
None of that is necessary! Truly. As you were. I'm just saying.
Because I'm hyper-verbal, I often say the wrong thing. The law of averages has a tendency to prevail in such cases.
But I'm occasionally guilty of saying the right thing. Not always at the right time, but now and then the right thing.
You can never win them all but if you keep working at it you can win them some.
And that's saying something.
Perhaps because I'm hyper-verbal or maybe because I believe in getting as good as I give, I put a great deal of thought into the things others say.
And the things they don't say.
Which maybe isn't strictly fair but -- alert the media -- fairness isn't exactly a thing that sets up a lemonade stand on every street corner, using plenty of real sugar.
I have a short list of things that are, in my opinion, difficult for anyone to hear. The reason being, they contain diminutive barbed belittlements, which nobody needs and everybody wants even less.
They're like the cockleburs I used to find embedded in the folds of my socks after running free as the wind through a field in summer. A painful nuisance.
Don't say them. Do you hear me?
I hope you find what you're looking for.
Implying, you're stumbling through life blind, helpless, like an ankle-sprained Helen Keller on uneven crutches, just hoping to bump into the thing you can -- in that segment of your grey matter that is in fact functioning -- determine was what you wanted all along.
Clue: just because certain people are inclined to live in view of an ideal without soliciting your advice doesn't make them brainless bumblers.
Even if they're way dumber than you, to arrive at that conceit-freighted conclusion doesn't make your stock go up.
Sometimes -- egads! -- they're smarter than you and if you'd stop judging, there is an outside possibility you may learn a thing or four from the Quixote-esque seeker of a better place to hang their metaphorical hat.
But even if they are brainless bumblers from whom less than nothing of worth is to be gleaned, so what? Does it make a difference to you? If so, why? Are you jealous?
Sometimes people simply can't stand it when others have the courage to pursue a dream, however quixotic. Are you one of those people?
Think about that the next time you're tempted to say -- with all the condescension you can realistically spare -- I hope you find what you're looking for.
Calm down!
Saying, in my estimation you are not calm, and because you are not in my opinion calm at this moment, you must immediately cease to feel and react in the way you see fit and begin emoting in a way that I see fit.
Because let's face it: my feelings are more important than yours and I shall bend you to my will even if I must resort to barking commands like a sleep-deprived drill instructor three weeks off his bipolar meds.
If you don't comprehend what's wrong with all of the above, perhaps you need to rethink the appropriateness of your telling others what to do in the first place.
And, news flash? Nobody ever calms down when told to do so. Ever. It's, like, a rule of the universe.
Think gravity. Think Johnny Depp's cheekbones. Think second law of thermodynamics. Think puppy breath.
Just a few pointers to remember the next time those two uber-patronizing four-letter words Calm down! are holding hands, poised to make a flying leap off your momentarily leaden suicide cliff of a tongue.
I never think about you and/or We never talk about you.
Oh please. In my experience these two frighteningly similar statements are made only by people who think of you at least once daily and who talk about you as often as they can come up with a reason to, and find anyone who will listen.
In other words, the only reason you would have to tell a person, in effect, you don't matter at all, is that in fact they matter a great deal more than you can summon the grace to admit.
Because if you really never think of someone or talk about them, you will have absolutely no motivation to tell them so. Not to mention a dearth of opportunity.
The desire won't be there because incentive is missing. If you truly don't care, there's no payoff to saying you don't care.
Remember: the opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is passive indifference.
Want to know if someone in actuality has less use for you than for moldy leftovers? If they're indifferent to you -- as in, could care less if you live or die -- they won't waste the energy it would take to hate you … much less to tell you they hate you.
If, on the other hand, they hate you in an unambiguous, way-out-there manner? Good chance they need you more than they would be willing to admit, even in secret. They may even love you and miss the relationship (however twisted) you once enjoyed … or that they only craved.
So before you say it, stop to consider how much you're revealing when you tell someone I never think about you and/or We never talk about you.
(Upside? If you hear these words, all is sometimes not lost. Reconciliation may be possible if both can summon a soupçon of humility and perhaps a smidgen of a sense of humor about personal foibles, leading to forgiveness and mending of fences.)
(Of course, not all fences need mending. If what's left of the horse is being used to affix elbows of macaroni to obliging sheets of construction paper in daycare arts and crafts time, and the pasture lies fallow, forgotten … leave the broken boards in the unmown grass and find something better to do.)
Fool you once, shame on me. Fool you twice, shame on you.
Interpretation: To my everlasting shame, I was enough of a bum to make a fool of you one time. However, if I decide to betray you again with even more thoroughgoing disregard for your feelings -- which I now am certain I have the power to decimate -- this time it will be to your shame that I succeed.
OK … how exactly does this work? Once someone has forever altered your life by their willfully inconsiderate and depraved actions, from that point on you are supposed to be able to divine when they plan to do it again? And then what … stop them?
Because now you know what they're capable of?
Which is to sort of say, being tricked and deceived makes you clairvoyant? Is that it? Or just suspicious and cynical enough that you keep a private detective on retainer and never again trust the person who used you so ill as to render you debilitated by the mere memory of their perfidy?
If you know the answer to any one of those questions, I'd love to hear it.
I'm sorry you took it wrong.
Which is to say, what I said was not -- could not be! -- wrong. I do not say things that are wrong. I am perfect! Ergo, if you are having a problem with what I said, it must be that you took it wrong.
Those who use this quasi-apologetic phrase never stop yakking long enough to hear the irony of their own argument.
Because if you say something in the first place that was out of bounds to the extent that it had the very real potential of hurting a person, why on earth would you then compound the injury by accusing the person of being a dolt if they are hurt by it?
It's like lighting a match, putting it out on someone's skin, then telling them if it stung, it's because they weren't quick enough.
In a word: disingenuous.
So the next time you say or do something -- intentionally or unintentionally -- and someone has the courage to tell you that your words or actions wounded them, don't make it worse by shushing them with a patronizing insult.
Say I'm sorry. Then bite your tongue before the rest comes out.
Reader Comments (10)
Oh boy, this was a doozie of a post! At first I was going to point out this literary gem "fairness isn't exactly a thing that sets up a lemonade stand on every street corner, using plenty of real sugar.", but then you kept rolling with the metaphors and just plain got on with your bad poignant self. These were some wise words, woman! Way to peel back that veneer.
Margaret, I am honored you'd drop by and read the whole thing! I was on a roll, wasn't I? The hand puppets were even getting tired.
I'm NOT 'gonna bite my tongue!!!
TART!!
Now I have to go through my day with the mental picture of Johnny Depp's cheeks in my mind's eye!!!!Hahahaaaa.....
(good post but DON'T tell Jennifer I said so...little tart!)Hahahaha
hughugs
I've never been effective at say |I'm sorry you took it wrong" but I shall keep trying.
LOL Donna ... well, since I suffer from JDOCD I'm haunted daily by Johnny's cheekbones (what can I say? I like the cut of his jib) ... I feel it's only fair to spread the misery around! And you're the one to whom I can safely say: Never bite your tongue! LOL thanks for stopping by, luvvy.
Irene ... so, do you mean that you actually say "I'm sorry you took it wrong?" Well, sometimes people do take things wrong. I know that and you know that! You must take some of my posts with a grain of salt the size of a bowling ball.
I love posts like this one...
"Calm down" is one that's always amused me. Like you said, it's impossible to calm down if someone is telling you to calm down. I once heard a comedian do a bit about this parent who yelled "calm down!" to their child who was misbehaving. The comedian noted how that child will grow up not having a clue what "calm down" really means. Anytime she hears those words as an adult, she'll immediately tense up and begin crying!
Kev ... isn't that just the truth? Not only are "calm down" two of the most incendiary words (when linked) in the English language, they are often spoken (read: barked) by people who are anything but calm! And you're right: kids learn from their parents how not to be calm.
Excellent advice. Think before you speak, but once the words are out there, you can't take them back. You can only try to make up for any hurt you caused.
LOL! This was awesome! I was recalling all of the times people have said these things to me...ahh...so funny now.
My fave line:
"Just a few pointers to remember the next time those two uber-patronizing four-letter words Calm down! are holding hands, poised to make a flying leap off your momentarily leaden suicide cliff of a tongue."
Debbie ... so true ... you can't unring the ignorance bell.
Audrey ... I know, right? We've talked about these -- and more -- so many times!