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Wednesday
Sep012010

Speaking Plainly

 


 

Years ago I was trapped by the thought that everything I say is a lie. Well not an exact lie. More like, I couldn’t trust that the words coming out of my mouth were an accurate portrayal of my true thoughts. I believed my ego was always getting in the way and distorting what I really meant to say. Even if only slightly. As a result I went through a period where everything I said was extremely measured. When asked a question, I would stare blankly, trying to choose the exact words. Many times I could find no translation for my thoughts and so I would continue staring blankly:

 

Say something! 

Crap!

I can’t think of what I wanted to say!

What was the word I was trying to find?...

Fructose!

No, that’s not it cuz I don’t even know what that means...

Good grief, I still haven’t said anything yet...

This pause has been much too long!

Has my mouth been open the entire time?...

Crap, crap, crap!

Wait I think it was, Flagnon!

No that’s not it either cuz that’s a word I just made up...

Sweet baby Jeebus help me...

I’m going the hell OOOWWWWT!!!...


As a result, I think my boss at the time thought I was an idiot.

Really, I think I was just reading too many books. So let that be a lesson to you boys-n-girls, books will fill your head with way too many ideas. Eventually, your brain won’t be able to handle them all and it will stop working.

Now you know.

After that I tried mental telepathy.

That didn’t work.

Since telepathy, (Or flight. Or laser eye beams for that matter), didn’t seem to pan out, I got into the habit of speaking my thoughts indirectly. I couldn’t quite tell you what I was thinking, but I could tell you what my thoughts were “like” by describing adjacent thoughts. Through the use of analogies and stories, I would outline the contours. My real thoughts though, lie somewhere in the middle of what I wasn’t saying.

My wife was the first of a select few to understand my cryptic way of speaking. I would often ask, “Do you know what I’m saying?” And she would say, “Yes. I do.” I would then ask, “O.K., What am I saying?” (Mostly cuz at that point I wasn’t quite sure.) She would go on to describe perfectly what I was only able to hint at.

She calls what I do, “circular talking”. “You start out at one point and at first what you’re saying sounds absolutely ridiculous, stupid and dumb.” “Whoa!, ridiculous, stupid AND dumb?”, I protested. “All three? At once?”. “Yes. All three. At once.”, She said assuredly. You do eventually make your way back around to where you started and somehow it all actually makes sense. Now that I'm used to it, I can tell by how you start, where you’re going to end up.”

“Really?”, I said. “I guess that’s comforting cuz sometimes I have no idea where I’m going to end up...

Did I say sometimes?

I meant a lot of times.

Did I say a lot of times?

I meant always.”

After successfully mastering “circle talking”, I hit upon the idea of saying exactly the opposite of what I really think. Rather than simply hinting at my ideas, I figure if I speak perpendicularly, my true thoughts will be revealed in sharp contrast. I mean, anyone can say exactly what they’re thinking, right?

BORing!

Some people call what I do, “lying.”

I prefer to call it, “speaking at right angles”

To people who know me, my true thought is at the endpoint. Others though, end up chasing the ray of my opposite-thought off into infinity. If you don’t know me well, I WILL send you off in the wrong direction. The only problem with this is, most folks tend to ignore about 80% of what I say.

Audwin The Black Belt said, “If you’re not careful, everyone on facebook is going to think you’re an a%&hole, which couldn’t be further from the truth.” There are two things I think about his statement: One; what is “truth”?; And two; That’s what they get for being dummies. Ironically, this might actually prove the point that I may be an a%&hole.

Recently I read a book called, Satan; An Autobiography. I have to admit, I did get a bit worried when I found myself identifying with everything the character of Satan was saying. I read a particular passage out loud to my wife. “Does that sound like me?”, I asked. “Yes.”, she said, “That sounds exactly like you.” “Flagnon! that’s the Satan character!!!”

My wife gave me a, I-don’t-know-why-any-of-this-is-surprising-to-you, kind of look.

Like I said, the book alarmed me. But not enough for me to stop doing what I do.

My wife said, “Don’t come crying to me when you end up in hell. I’m not coming to get you out! After this life is over, I will have fulfilled my tour of duty.”

I suppose there is a bit of danger in continuing to speak as obliquely as I do.

Then again who knows. Everything I just said is prolly one big lie.

It’s hard to tell anymore.

 

Saturday
Jul102010

Smarticles

 

Tricia: Wow! What you just said was actually pretty smart!

Me: Was it?

Tricia: Yes. It was extremely cogent and insightful.

Me: Oh… You'll have to forgive me. I wasn't trying to be smart, I was only trying to say what I thought… And I wish I knew what cogent meant.

Friday
Apr092010

Wolverines in the classroom

This is a conversation I had with my son this morning. He is nine and he is in the third grade.

Morgan: We have a new pet in our classroom. Guess what it is.

Me: A wolverine!

Morgan: No...

Me: A jaguar!

Morgan: No...

Me: A mongoose!

Morgan: No, it's a bunny rabbit and...

Me: A gazelle!

Morgan: No Papa, I already said it's a bunny rabbit. So anyway, we were trying to decide on a name and...

Me: A hyena! An elephant! A crocodile!

Morgan: No. It's a bunny rabbit.

Me: A bunny rabbit? That's what I said the first time!

Morgan: Ok yes, you said that the first time. Anyway we were trying to decide on a name...

Me: Hah! No I DIDN'T say that the first time! I said wolverine the first time. You're just saying that to humor me so I'll be quiet.

Morgan: Yes I am. So anyway we were trying to give the rabbit a name...

It is now clear to me that my ENTIRE family is conspiring against me.

Even my nine-year old son.

Thursday
Apr012010

Pot Pies

Me: I need a hug.

Tricia: OK

Me: (*sigh*). Y'know, if you had hugged me like this in high school, 25 years ago, I would have been a different kid.

Tricia: I know. That's why I didn't hug you.

Me: What!?? Why!??

Tricia: Cuz, you would have followed me around like a little puppy dog?

Me: True, true… Well, what about now?

Tricia: Now? You could give a rat's a**. In fact in about 15 minutes you're going to say something rude and misogynistic and then you're going to end it with, "Where's my pot pie woman!"

Me: Ha ha... Yeah. Pot pies are awesome.

Thursday
Mar112010

Bread and Bricks

 

Sometimes the fact that I'm in my forties worries me a little. Audwin the Black Belt said, "The reality is man, we've got more years behind us than we do ahead of us." 

Great pep talk ATBB.

I have a nagging feeling that I may have neglected something in the years behind me. Kinda like when you walk out of a room and suddenly think, "Wait... I was supposed to do something… What was it?" So you go back into the room hoping whatever you were supposed to do will come back to you. It's as if somehow your memory has fallen out of your head and when you go back it will surely recognize you, saying, "Oh there you are! I was looking for you. I've been wandering around this room bumping into things because it turns out, I am a memory and I have no eyes." And with that, it will jump back into your head.

The funny thing is most of the time this works. But sometimes it doesn't and you wander around the house, searching for what you've forgotten. Then you suddenly remember it a week later as you're about to drift off to sleep. Apparently whatever you had forgotten was hiding under the covers the whole time.

Like I said sometimes I worry that I've forgotten something I was supposed to do in my twenties or thirties, back when I had a lot more energy. I'm not sure what it was exactly. Was I supposed to start my own business before the added weight of a marriage, mortgage and children? Was I smarter back then or just more fearless because I didn't know any better? I certainly don't feel dumber. Then again, I don't feel much smarter either. If anything I think I'm just a bit more shrewd.

What would have taken me an hour of sheer effort in the past, now takes me fifteen minutes of thought and five minutes of effort. I think that's mostly cuz I know I no longer have an hour of sheer effort in me anymore. Before I would have just leaped headlong into a problem, solving it with nothing more than will and brute force. Now I sit and think about the problem, attacking it from all angles in my mind. I don't make a move until I think I've figured out the simplest way.

If I find there is no simple way to solve my problem, I hire someone. Thereby making it simple once again.

Physicists have a theory that likens the universe to a big loaf of bread. Our particular universe is on one slice of that loaf and there is an alternate universe sitting next to us on another slice. In that other slice, I have made completely different decisions than I have on this slice. On yet another slice, maybe I don't even exist. (Clearly that world is a dark and desolate place). It goes on like that throughout the loaf, different decisions create different realities and different slices. (Those familiar with comics will recognize this as being similar to the D.C. comic book universe. Physicists could have saved themselves a lot of math and just picked up a copy of Superman).

My friend Kevin the writer says he wishes he could open a hole and see how the alternate Kevin lives. He's afraid though that the other Kevin will tell him, "Remember that expensive sports car you always wanted? Well looky-here! I got it! Oh and by the way, I'm rich and date nothing but supermodels! Life here is great! How are things in the wife-mortgage-two-daughters-universe?" Alternate Kevin would just piss our Kevin off. He would have no choice but to throw a brick at his head, killing him instantly, thereby de-stabalizing all existence throughout the entire loaf of reality.

Which is probably why it's a good idea that Kevin the writer doesn't have the power to open a hole into all the different universes. 

He's an idiot. He would definitely f*ck everything up.

Here's the thing, I've actually thought about every different iteration of me that could exist in all the different realities. The versions of me that married different women; The ones that didn't marry at all; The ones that had different children; The ones that have no children; The ones that started a business and are independently wealthy; The ones that started a business and are independently broke; The ones that wear corduroys. Everyday. Even in the summer. I've thought about all of them and you know what? Almost all of those guys turned out to be a**holes. Trust me all those other versions of me f*ck everything up for everyone so you're lucky to be here on this particular slice of bread with me. (It turns out, all the different versions of me are kinda like Lex Luthor). The notable exception being the guy who became filthy rich from writing The Franklin Chronicles. 

That cat is deliriously happy.

I keep a brick with me at all times specifically for that guy. Just in case I ever get the power to open a hole in the universe.