My morning workload should be comfortably abbreviated now that I’ve carefully observed the way life is here on planet Dubyapee. It took me awhile. I’m slow to learn. Especially slow when what I see befuddles me because it violates my naïve expectations of people.
As an avowed misanthrope, you’d figure I’d know better. Most of my adult life though, I’ve held out that I was mostly wrong about people. Certainly wrong about those I got to know personally, so-to-speak, professionally and socially.
Always thinking it was my fault. A shortcoming on my part when personal interactions seemed less than satisfactory. When viewed from my side.
Got it now.
It is my fault. My fault not for not putting my heart into interaction, but my fault for assuming because certain folk talk the game nice, they’re gonna play the game nice. Once failed, done. Easy.
No surprise, an old dude, I don’t have a lot of time to waste. So I’ll not waste any of it investing in folks who, whatever their motivation, by their actions ultimately disappoint.
Stay with the good’ns. Write off the bad’ns.
Not to worry. The only person I’m re-engineering is me. Here on planet Dubyapee.
Real readers won’t see a change. They may ask, “What the zorch is he going-on about?” The rest won’t notice anyway, being too otherwise preoccupied.
As I get better at it, the good’ns may notice I’m paying them more attention. Right. They deserve it.
Got my scout badge for helping the elderly today. For the bad weather, hustling to renew auto registration before the end of month, I’d waited through the vehicle inspection, driven to the clerk’s office and saw a humongous line there. Ah well. As I approached the tail end of that line, I saw coming from the other direction, an elderly gent doing the “I have all I can do to walk” shuffle. When he pulled-up even with me, bound I know for the end of the line behind me, I told the gent to step in line in front of me. He thought it odd. Told him I watched him approach; had he a younger man’s legs, he’d have been in front of me. Seemed fair. He was delighted. By then two new line-uppers behind me may have been upset. I didn’t care.
I’m betting the old dude was younger than me. If it was an act – which I doubt – he delivered an Oscar performance and rated some kind of consideration. No one challenged me. The misanthrope in me might have relished that; haven’t had a decent confrontation in a couple of weeks.
A lot of tradesmen’s trucks and vans in the hood yesterday and today. Looks Chez Espie wasn’t the only one to have storm-related issues. Doesn’t make it any more comfortable, this unspoken commiseration. Do know I was the only idiot out in the cold, on a ladder, whacking away at ice jams to keep damage to a minimum.
Did watch some real clowns Sunday afternoon. One dork couldn’t make it up the hill out front in his gasoline chariot. Gave it three goes. A shiny new SUV pulled up behind him and tried nudging the first dork up the hill. Pretty chancy I figure as Urban Cowboy SUVs are not designed to push another vehicle nose-to-butt. Grillwork is costly and most of it costly plastic. Didn’t work. Dorks one and two stuck. A third car tried to go around only to be thwarted by the ice.
Then the street was dork-blocked.
Ten minutes later, six guys with shovels started hacking a path up the hill in the street. All they needed to clear was enough for one tire, but these dorks cleared a swath wide enough for a land yacht. Forty-five minutes. No heart attacks.
Guess what? Two hours later, the sun was melting the ice to slush. Anyone could make it up the hill without the track.
Entertainment is free if you’re observant.
Supper is ready.
Catch you tomorrow. Maybe.