1. In preparation for the new phone system we're installing tomorrow, I'm going through the generic online training tutorial (I mean literally right now I'm doing this, it's droning in the background as I write from the reception desk). What's fascinating me now is of course not the content but the nice gentleman speaking and operating the phones in the first-person perspective presentation. He's got a nice clean voice, which is probably why he was chosen to do it. However, he's also got a little bit of a lisp, which is utterly consuming my attention. I don't mean like a homosexual lisp but more of an adolescent lisp, where many of the words are just sloppily or lazily pronounced. It's not regional, like a dialect. For example, he just used the word "regional," and he spoke it as "reguh-nool." This is a very slight example. "The" becomes "deh," "external" becomes "etsternal," "calls" becomes "cualls." But the biggest one is row. He says "rwow." It's like how Bobby Flay talks. It's a soothing voice, but I don't know why. I also for some reason associate it with Asian people, which I why I'm assuming this gentleman is Asian. I wonder if that association comes from the l/r problem they often have with English? I wonder if my assumption is a social stereotype or if Asian people just get used to pronouncing things slightly wrong because they've heard it so much from family?
Whatever the answers to those questions, this particular guide has got my sense of perception engaged, and I haven't got much to work with. His hands aren't model hands but instead a bit lumpy, and tanned. Other than that, so far I've only gotten a quick view of his upper right forehead and his button blue sleeves. Nonetheless, I feel acquainted with him, and my reaction to this is similar to any time you meet someone new or mysterious: I want to know more, and I want to project things onto him. Why do people do that? Why does a disembodied voice and two hands cause me to want to know about the rest of him? Why does his odd speaking spark that zest to know more? We are a curious species.
2. Something more generally interesting is this next thing. I was back in Columbus this past weekend and ran into some old college friends. One person (who was really more a friend-of-a-friend, meaning I haven't talked with him and never would have known him were it not for my friend, still this is someone with whom I effortlessly communicate) asked me if I was still writing my blog. Fairly mundane question and I answered that sure I was but not prolificly. The interesting thing is that he almost instantly added: "sorry if I'm not readng it regularly," as though some mention of his reading habits were necessary.
Now, nothing in the way this person acted was remotely out of the ordinary, and naturally neither of us made any notice of anything odd occurring. Nevertheless, I find his qualifying remark (sorry if I'm not reading) to be very interesting. Why did he (or would anyone) ever feel the need to apologize there? Has our blogging society become so (im)personal that people read by requisition? Is it a personal reflection on a person if an acquaintance of that person either does or doesn't read his blog?
This is a dangerous trend, I think. To borrow Descartes: "I write therefore I am read."
I think a requirement for a valuable friendship is to find the person interesting, so naturally it would follow that you would enjoy talking with him or--back to our example--reading something he has written. Now, when we talk to someone, we share in leading the conversation; we have a say in keeping things interesting to us; however, when a person writes something they are free to go off on their own without regard to someone else's interest level. There are people who do write solely with the intent of keeping people interested, but those people are not merely writing, they are entertaining, and only using written words as a medium.
I don't blog-write like that. I write what interests me and I let myself go with a thought. It's what I love about this form of writing: it's vaguely formal but simultaneously totally personal. I feel almost as though whoever may be reading I am engaging in one of those long thoughtful conversations that seem to occur around fireplaces and involve politics or religion (since most people aren't conditioned well enough to have serious intelligent and actual free-will opinions on anything else, but that's digressing too much for now). If someone out there doesn't find a topic as interesting as I do, then don't consider it a reflection on me I consider it a reflection on us as we relate to that topic. Nothing more. Some of my best friends really get into current music, but I get no interest from it so whenever they talk about it I either drift off or find someone else to talk about something different. It's nothing personal that I don't share their interest in music.
So I wonder if apologizing to someone for not reading their blog is more meaningful than that? I know that I think it shouldn't be, but probably it is. I guess an easy way to describe my general belief is that if you are a person who would be offended by someone not reading your blog, then you probably shouldn't be blogging, or you should get new friends.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Things I Learned in Columbus
Here are some things that might offend some people:
1. I think it's time for airlines to start charging extra to fat people. An airline isn't actually a part of the service industry anymore, it's merely a form of transportation. (Why are there even stewardesses anymore? Just hand out drinks before boarding and call it a day. Or scrap the drinks and charge me $2 less up front; I'd survive. It's not like the old days when they were passing out meals and blankets and ashtrays and whatnot.) An airplane has a finite amount of space and they should charge you by the amount of cubic feet you occupy. Obviously, there should be a limit under which everyone pays the same, because a seat is a seat even if it's only got a kid in it. But I'd say maybe anything above a 46 inch waist or hips should have to pay extra. Taking it an extra step, when you are selecting your seats, you should know how much space each person is consuming and those who select a seat next a larger individual should pay less for the inconvenience, exactly the amount that the fat person has to pay extra.
Yesterday on my return flight from Columbus, I was stuck in a window seat next a woman who's, uh, body was spilling over into my seat. She was nice about it at least. I mean to say, she was cognizant of her life failure and seemed to feel the appropriate amount of shame. Even though it must have been slightly painful, she kept the armrest down, I'm pretty sure as a futile attempt to keep herself contained. I accepted this gesture of goodwill, and since it was a short flight, I simply leaned over toward the window and read my magazine. She seemed like one of those fat people who fears being in crowds, and I'm sure that if I weren't sitting next to her, that she would have been very content to just stay in her third row seat until everyone else on the plane left so she wouldn't bump into or slow anyone down.
2. A fixture of my college years, Bob Evans has gone downhill. It's gone downhill enough for me to say I don't really care to patronize it again. I will go if in a group and that's the majority desire, but I will never suggest it and I can't imagine craving it again.
I had the sunshine skillet and a bowl of sausage gravy. The skillet was far worse than I remember them being and the gravy was thin and the sausage therein was curiously tasteless, given that it was made of pig. I can make breakfast food at least as good myself, and I don't consider myself anything like a great cook. Saving grace is that my huge meal only cost $11 and the biscuits are still spectacular. But either Bob's has changed or I have changed, because it just doesn't do it for me anymore.
3. I was playing pool with a guy named Broshaun (BroShaun? BroShawn? Bro'Shawon?) on Friday night. He seemed to be a genuinely nice human being but he wasn't going to win any IQ contests. He casually mentioned being "locked up" when he was younger, and that makes me really regret not having asked him why the first two fingers on his right hand were missing everything above the first knuckle. It doesn't take much to live an interesting life. Every person has a story.
4. It's inevitable to feel this way at least a little, given that I've lived now almost six years in NYC, but Columbus--or rather the campus area--is a lot less interesting to me than it used to be. I seriously wonder now if I were to go back and relive my four college years at OSU, but do it in the current climate, that I would enjoy it as much. Granted, that's not saying much, because I will always be incredibly grateful and appreciative of all I got out of my college experience, but I wonder if that level of satisfaction would still be possible for an 18 year old me in 2009. The degree to which it would be less enjoyable is likely much smaller than I'm assuming right now, but I'm quite sure it is still less.
5. This won't offend anyone, but on the return flight I was buried in my magazine most of the way. In fact, the first time I looked out the window, would you even believe that the town thousands of feet below was good old Steubenville, OH? It's really not so bad looking from that height.
1. I think it's time for airlines to start charging extra to fat people. An airline isn't actually a part of the service industry anymore, it's merely a form of transportation. (Why are there even stewardesses anymore? Just hand out drinks before boarding and call it a day. Or scrap the drinks and charge me $2 less up front; I'd survive. It's not like the old days when they were passing out meals and blankets and ashtrays and whatnot.) An airplane has a finite amount of space and they should charge you by the amount of cubic feet you occupy. Obviously, there should be a limit under which everyone pays the same, because a seat is a seat even if it's only got a kid in it. But I'd say maybe anything above a 46 inch waist or hips should have to pay extra. Taking it an extra step, when you are selecting your seats, you should know how much space each person is consuming and those who select a seat next a larger individual should pay less for the inconvenience, exactly the amount that the fat person has to pay extra.
Yesterday on my return flight from Columbus, I was stuck in a window seat next a woman who's, uh, body was spilling over into my seat. She was nice about it at least. I mean to say, she was cognizant of her life failure and seemed to feel the appropriate amount of shame. Even though it must have been slightly painful, she kept the armrest down, I'm pretty sure as a futile attempt to keep herself contained. I accepted this gesture of goodwill, and since it was a short flight, I simply leaned over toward the window and read my magazine. She seemed like one of those fat people who fears being in crowds, and I'm sure that if I weren't sitting next to her, that she would have been very content to just stay in her third row seat until everyone else on the plane left so she wouldn't bump into or slow anyone down.
2. A fixture of my college years, Bob Evans has gone downhill. It's gone downhill enough for me to say I don't really care to patronize it again. I will go if in a group and that's the majority desire, but I will never suggest it and I can't imagine craving it again.
I had the sunshine skillet and a bowl of sausage gravy. The skillet was far worse than I remember them being and the gravy was thin and the sausage therein was curiously tasteless, given that it was made of pig. I can make breakfast food at least as good myself, and I don't consider myself anything like a great cook. Saving grace is that my huge meal only cost $11 and the biscuits are still spectacular. But either Bob's has changed or I have changed, because it just doesn't do it for me anymore.
3. I was playing pool with a guy named Broshaun (BroShaun? BroShawn? Bro'Shawon?) on Friday night. He seemed to be a genuinely nice human being but he wasn't going to win any IQ contests. He casually mentioned being "locked up" when he was younger, and that makes me really regret not having asked him why the first two fingers on his right hand were missing everything above the first knuckle. It doesn't take much to live an interesting life. Every person has a story.
4. It's inevitable to feel this way at least a little, given that I've lived now almost six years in NYC, but Columbus--or rather the campus area--is a lot less interesting to me than it used to be. I seriously wonder now if I were to go back and relive my four college years at OSU, but do it in the current climate, that I would enjoy it as much. Granted, that's not saying much, because I will always be incredibly grateful and appreciative of all I got out of my college experience, but I wonder if that level of satisfaction would still be possible for an 18 year old me in 2009. The degree to which it would be less enjoyable is likely much smaller than I'm assuming right now, but I'm quite sure it is still less.
5. This won't offend anyone, but on the return flight I was buried in my magazine most of the way. In fact, the first time I looked out the window, would you even believe that the town thousands of feet below was good old Steubenville, OH? It's really not so bad looking from that height.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
A Very Short Story
Effect
A man sat in a park and watched a bird. It stopped near him briefly, then flew away. An hour later a similar bird did the same thing, and flew away. Just then the man's girlfriend greeted and sat down next to him. The man nervously slipped his rigid, clammy hands into his pockets and was surprised to feel the small metallic ring. He had forgotten.
A man sat in a park and watched a bird. It stopped near him briefly, then flew away. An hour later a similar bird did the same thing, and flew away. Just then the man's girlfriend greeted and sat down next to him. The man nervously slipped his rigid, clammy hands into his pockets and was surprised to feel the small metallic ring. He had forgotten.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
your efforts are futile
ive come to realize that i have a real talent for something. hold on now, because no this isnt going to be any kind of back-slapping exercise like i sometimes engage in. i only realize it's a talent because ive noticed that not only do not many people share this talent, but quite a few are actually utterly incapable of it in any regard.
i have an effortless ability to not feel another person's uncomfortability in conversation. basically, i do not naturally feel any empathy in conversational settings. ive only come to notice this over many years, as i watch other people get sucked into things they dont want any part of simply because they do the normal thing and act interested and nod their head and otherwise dont ignore the other person imposing on their time/space.
if you find yourself with me in a social situation and neither of us has anything natural to add, then you can just save yourself the agony and know that i wont say anything and i wont judge you for doing the same. see, what happens for the huge majority of people is, while they might be able to recognize that i wont add anything to the "conversation," almost no one is able to come to terms with the latter fact: that it really is ok for them to do the same. pretty much everyone i ever come across finds it impossible to leave well enough alone and forces some attempt at chatter, only to find that their efforts only enhance the awkwardness.
i say awkwardness because i can appreciate the sensation that most people have in these situations. i am capable of feeling awkwardness, though it is relatively rare. the important thing to know here is that, with extremely small exception, i dont feel awkward during conventionally "awkward" social conversational situations.
if you want to talk to me about your cat or something and you cat doesnt happen to interest me (this is an apt example, fyi), then i wont really engage in your conversation and youll end up basically talking out loud for no good reason. if you tell me something about the weather being hot, i will recognize this as a forced attempt at breaking through, but i will do nothing to help you there; instead i will either agree or disagree about the actual point you make regarding the heat, and then stop talking.
i dont want this now to sound like im not ever interested by things people say or merely people themselves. this is far from true. sometimes the smallest or most banal things will completely engage me. i think i am interested by things a pretty normal amount. normal, meaning about the same as most people. which, given the fact that i felt the need to write this post on this subject, would seem to suggest that most people who are normally interested by things do not actually behave that way. they will act like they are interested in far more things that they really are. they will be phony. i am sorry but this is true. if it's a bad thing to be phony on a macro level then surely it should be just as bad to be phony on a micro level.
i think this ties back into how i started this, actually. it's ok to feel uncomfortable. it's ok not to care about things, just as much as to care about things. do not get frustrated by my seemingly poor social skills just because you have a hard time understanding this, and i promise not to let your lack of awareness further degrade my social abilities around you.
i have an effortless ability to not feel another person's uncomfortability in conversation. basically, i do not naturally feel any empathy in conversational settings. ive only come to notice this over many years, as i watch other people get sucked into things they dont want any part of simply because they do the normal thing and act interested and nod their head and otherwise dont ignore the other person imposing on their time/space.
if you find yourself with me in a social situation and neither of us has anything natural to add, then you can just save yourself the agony and know that i wont say anything and i wont judge you for doing the same. see, what happens for the huge majority of people is, while they might be able to recognize that i wont add anything to the "conversation," almost no one is able to come to terms with the latter fact: that it really is ok for them to do the same. pretty much everyone i ever come across finds it impossible to leave well enough alone and forces some attempt at chatter, only to find that their efforts only enhance the awkwardness.
i say awkwardness because i can appreciate the sensation that most people have in these situations. i am capable of feeling awkwardness, though it is relatively rare. the important thing to know here is that, with extremely small exception, i dont feel awkward during conventionally "awkward" social conversational situations.
if you want to talk to me about your cat or something and you cat doesnt happen to interest me (this is an apt example, fyi), then i wont really engage in your conversation and youll end up basically talking out loud for no good reason. if you tell me something about the weather being hot, i will recognize this as a forced attempt at breaking through, but i will do nothing to help you there; instead i will either agree or disagree about the actual point you make regarding the heat, and then stop talking.
i dont want this now to sound like im not ever interested by things people say or merely people themselves. this is far from true. sometimes the smallest or most banal things will completely engage me. i think i am interested by things a pretty normal amount. normal, meaning about the same as most people. which, given the fact that i felt the need to write this post on this subject, would seem to suggest that most people who are normally interested by things do not actually behave that way. they will act like they are interested in far more things that they really are. they will be phony. i am sorry but this is true. if it's a bad thing to be phony on a macro level then surely it should be just as bad to be phony on a micro level.
i think this ties back into how i started this, actually. it's ok to feel uncomfortable. it's ok not to care about things, just as much as to care about things. do not get frustrated by my seemingly poor social skills just because you have a hard time understanding this, and i promise not to let your lack of awareness further degrade my social abilities around you.
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