Dealing with the difficult (people, that is)

I would like to preface this by saying that I, myself, am never a difficult person. In fact, I am really not so opinionated that I would EVER try to convince you that I was right, nor would I argue my point of view. Of course not.

I talked to Beth the other night and asked her the secret to subtle manipulation. She thought maybe it had something to do with using phrases like "so what you're saying is...", and other mirroring methods. Sometimes I say phrases like this over and over again, hoping that the person on the other side will say to me: "What I'm saying is that you are so incredibly smart and your point of view is so valid that of course I will do exactly what you want me to do." The day that happens is the day I am buying a lottery ticket.

Sometimes it helps to use your fake voice. Stop pretending that you don't know what the fake voice is-- you've probably used it on me (don't think I can't tell!). But when you use the fake voice, that pleasant, patient, sweet tone that says "I have all day, please, go on telling me about your stamp collection, of course I want to hear", sometimes it actually helps. Sometimes the secret to dealing with difficult people is to smile on the inside so that you can smile on the outside. They never have to know exactly why you're smiling...just paste it on and hope for the best :)

Is it just me???

I feel like I should be writing one of those "top ten" columns. Like top 10 reasons you know you're a redneck, or whatever. This column should probably be entitled "top 10 indications that I'm getting old". I went to a new church this Sunday, one that is within walking distance of Grove City College. I'm not kidding, I think college freshman are now being admitted at the age of 16. I was surrounded by a sea of fashionably dressed midgets. And what is with the lack of independence? A third of the church is sitting empty, and there are probably 25 students crammed in directly behind me and "oh, we need to save seats for Susan, and Troy, and Doug." On one level it did make sense that they could cram into that row because they all seemed so...tiny. Most of the conversations I heard seemed to revolve around things that are not even worth putting into words. Was I ever that vapid??? Don't answer that. [As a side note: one indication that these were Grovers that we were dealing with here (and you Grovers know who you are) was that I heard an entire conversation detailing the grammatical errors in the bulletin. ] So, I walked out feeling a little...old. But, as I watched all of those freshman trudging back to campus in the rain, I felt very thankful for my car, my house, no homework, and best of all, a life outside of the bubble.

Dishing it out

Self-deprecating humor is the mainstay of the stand-up comedian, providing strong fodder for anyone attempting to cover insecurities. On the surface, this seems to be a solid tactic. I usually make light of both my occasional mental slips and the raised volume of my vocal chords before others have the opportunity. This helps break the ice--it lets others know that I am aware of the areas where I fall short of perfection (as minuscule as they may be), and also allows for a good laugh at my expense. My advice to all future comedians is to develop some thick skin (when I say thick, I mean like an elephant-hide thick). If you joke about your thinning hair, you had better be ready for everyone else to comment on it....their witty remarks accompanied by roaring laughter. In my case, if I neglect to see the hilarity when others are commenting on my "built in PA system", I risk looking like a spoilsport. However, for those of you who think that your imperfections will remain unnoticed if you point out others' flaws, please note: Not only do elephants have thick skin, they also have long memories.

Music and (bad) Lyrics

Recently, more than ever, it has become extremely apparent that song writers are running low on creative fuel. Take, for instance, the popular song belted out by Toby Keith with the chorus "High maintenance woman don't want no maintenance man." I realize that grammatical correctness has fallen by the wayside, but is too much to ask for lyrics that are not so corny that they require their own side of butter? Or, perhaps you've heard the song "Fergalicious". This one is even better than "My humps". If anyone can figure out how the Black Eyed Peas have managed to hang on despite atrocious vocals and lyrics that can only be described (and I'm being generous here) as juvenile, please fill me in. And while we're on the subject of the Black Eyed Peas, has anyone heard the folk rendition of their "junk in the trunk" song by Cheryl Crow? I'm really hoping that Cheryl recorded it as a parody because there is no other explanation for the lack of judgement that this particular choice represented. It is embarrassing to watch artists passionately perform these songs. Today's artists would do well to take lessons from such lyrical greats as U2 or Johnny Cash.

Living life

"It is very easy to think of the poverty far away and forget very quickly. Today a great disease is that feeling of terrible loneliness, the feeling of being unwanted, having forgotten what human joy is, what the human feeling is of being wanted or loved. I think this is found in very well-to-do families also.

We may not have people hungry for a plate of rice or for a piece of bread in New York City, but there is a tremendous hunger and a tremendous feeling of unwantedness everywhere. And that is really a very great poverty."

-Mother Teresa

I recently had a conversation about anxiety and fear and their increased prevalence in today's society. Heinous crimes are committed by those who are searching, longing, begging for love and acceptance. While we may never know the cause behind the Virginia Tech killer, it's obvious he was plagued by the demon of loneliness. This does not, by any stretch of the imagination, explain or condone his crime in any way; however, I believe it is worth noting that loneliness is a powerful motivator. May we cast off our shrouds of fear and loneliness, living life as it is meant to be lived, with exuberance and abandonment.

Family

Throughout the span of my life, my parents have not aged. In my mental snapshot, they are frozen in time somewhere in their forties. Pictures I have formerly examined of their younger years seem to belong to someone else, not to them. Subconsciously, I picture them emerging into this world in possession of much the same mental maturity and physique that they each maintain currently.

An unexpected trip to Columbus this weekend changed that perspective. Saturday evening, sitting in the darkened family room, we looked at slides of a motorcycle trip my Dad had taken over 30 years ago. For the first time, I saw my Dad as he had been during his 20s: little bit crazy, a little bit creative, and extremely adventurous. He rode his BMW bike across the country and down into south America. There were pictures of him camped out in barns, on beaches, in cow pastures, in mountains, in the redwood forest, in the rain forest. Seeing my conservative, hard-working father as a hippie living on the open road was new to me. Shockingly, my parents had actually had lives before I was born!

For the first time, it hit home that the roles that we play in life are always changing: one day a son, the next a father; one day a father, the next a grandfather. And God, the director, always constant.

Miss Manners

Does anyone else share my Miss Manners column closet obsession? It's not just that she refers to herself in the third person, nor is it that people write in about the most absurd dilemmas, it's the sarcasm! Consider the response that she provided to a teenage girl who was inquiring as to the appropriateness of wearing a chastity ring on the ring finger of her left hand: "Allowing prospective suitors to believe that you are engaged is certainly one way to preserve your chastity."

I've also started taking a tally of my own social faux paus, and believe me, the list is long and varied. However, at least I now know that it is not polite to pass gas while on a date, and that telling well-intentioned inquirers that your child is being named after your cat is perfectly acceptable.

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