Communication, if you really sit down and ponder it, is a mind-boggling thing. Consider that it’s possible to convey the message “Did you hear that? What the hell is this guy thinking?” with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.* From a quick wink (which is almost always creepy) to a rambling soliloquy spoken in effort to express one’s true appreciation for oven mitts, thoughts can be conveyed in a myriad of ways. Because there are so many dynamics that come with communication (or because I have been hurting for blog topics lately… I really need something awkward to happen to me soon), I think it’s time that we analyze some of the things that I hear (or read) every day (figuratively). Perhaps we’ll unearth a better understanding of communication… More likely, we’ll discover that I should really keep my thoughts to myself.
*Yes, I know this from experience.
A speaker amplified voice recently asked me if I’d like to add cheese sticks or ice cream to my lunch order…
For the 432nd time, the answer is no. I operate by a simple premise: if I want to purchase something, I’ll ask for it. I don’t tiptoe around ordering ice cream like the person who doesn’t want to ask another person how they got a scar*, and I’m also not going to succumb to any sort of peer pressure that involves fried foods. Sorry.
*Fell in the bathtub. Thanks.
A voice on the radio recently told me far too many things about car racing…
I do not intend to become a racing fan, nor will I ever test my 2004 Impala’s engine in any sort of fast and/or furious manner. Thus, “The Racing Boys” segment on sports radio is one that I have no interest in. If you require an illustration of the precise amount of interest I have in hearing folks discuss advertisements disguised as race cars, consider the amount of interest your pet has in reading Stephen Hawking’s “A Brief History of Time”… Now cut that level of interest in half.
A friend recently told me that I can’t take a compliment…
I’m not sure that this is true. I’ll gladly take compliments on the rare occasions that they come my way… I just have a tendency of responding to them with the sort of self-deprecating remark that might make a person wish to enroll me in a self-affirmation course taught by Stuart Smalley. Rest assured, readers, I don’t suffer from any crippling personality disorders (that I’m aware of). The self-loathing nature is just part of a continued effort to make sure my head doesn’t get big in the figurative sense (since it’s already too large for my body in the physical sense).
I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and – gosh darn it – people like me… sometimes.
A former boss gave me advice via email, saying “The only constant in life is change”…
I can’t argue with this, since pennies seem to sprout about my car like dandelions on a summer lawn… Wrong sort of change? Nevertheless, there is credence to these words. Jobs change. People change. Even your opinion concerning that shirt you bought two months ago changes. (What were you thinking?) And when you really think you might have things figured out, things change with the velocity, ferocity and atrocity of a rabid-dog-wielding tornado.
With all of this potentially life-altering change, what can a person do? Keep reading…
When my niece recently ate an extra piece of chocolate, despite me telling her not to, I told her that I was sad, completing the façade with the sort of look a kid gives when he’s told he can’t have cotton candy at the fair. Her response? “You don’t have to be sad. You can be happy if you want to.”
How can a person argue with that sort of wisdom?*
*If her two-year-old mind is that keen when it comes to philosophy, does that mean she’s a genius in other subjects, too? Maybe I should really take heed when she tells me that monsters and snakes live in my walls.
*Yes, I know this from experience.
A speaker amplified voice recently asked me if I’d like to add cheese sticks or ice cream to my lunch order…
For the 432nd time, the answer is no. I operate by a simple premise: if I want to purchase something, I’ll ask for it. I don’t tiptoe around ordering ice cream like the person who doesn’t want to ask another person how they got a scar*, and I’m also not going to succumb to any sort of peer pressure that involves fried foods. Sorry.
*Fell in the bathtub. Thanks.
A voice on the radio recently told me far too many things about car racing…
I do not intend to become a racing fan, nor will I ever test my 2004 Impala’s engine in any sort of fast and/or furious manner. Thus, “The Racing Boys” segment on sports radio is one that I have no interest in. If you require an illustration of the precise amount of interest I have in hearing folks discuss advertisements disguised as race cars, consider the amount of interest your pet has in reading Stephen Hawking’s “A Brief History of Time”… Now cut that level of interest in half.
A friend recently told me that I can’t take a compliment…
I’m not sure that this is true. I’ll gladly take compliments on the rare occasions that they come my way… I just have a tendency of responding to them with the sort of self-deprecating remark that might make a person wish to enroll me in a self-affirmation course taught by Stuart Smalley. Rest assured, readers, I don’t suffer from any crippling personality disorders (that I’m aware of). The self-loathing nature is just part of a continued effort to make sure my head doesn’t get big in the figurative sense (since it’s already too large for my body in the physical sense).
I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and – gosh darn it – people like me… sometimes.
A former boss gave me advice via email, saying “The only constant in life is change”…
I can’t argue with this, since pennies seem to sprout about my car like dandelions on a summer lawn… Wrong sort of change? Nevertheless, there is credence to these words. Jobs change. People change. Even your opinion concerning that shirt you bought two months ago changes. (What were you thinking?) And when you really think you might have things figured out, things change with the velocity, ferocity and atrocity of a rabid-dog-wielding tornado.
With all of this potentially life-altering change, what can a person do? Keep reading…
When my niece recently ate an extra piece of chocolate, despite me telling her not to, I told her that I was sad, completing the façade with the sort of look a kid gives when he’s told he can’t have cotton candy at the fair. Her response? “You don’t have to be sad. You can be happy if you want to.”
How can a person argue with that sort of wisdom?*
*If her two-year-old mind is that keen when it comes to philosophy, does that mean she’s a genius in other subjects, too? Maybe I should really take heed when she tells me that monsters and snakes live in my walls.
2 comments:
Your niece sounds like a neat kid. I hope she stays that wise.
You're a funny writer.
It's true; she is probably the most clever 2-year-old alive. (Bias? What bias?)
I think you forgot to include the word "looking" (funny-looking writer) in your comment.
Thanks for reading.
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