I'll tell you what's wrong. They're small, immature, silly, contrary, alternately lazy and hyperactive, too smart for their own good and stupid beyond belief. They range from completely to selectively helpless and they don't know what's important. They're fascinated by the newest thing for no reason other than that it's the newest thing. They cluster in packs, eat stuff you wanted and don't enjoy the things they ought to enjoy, like art and classical music.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Saturday, December 03, 2016
The significance of others
Of all the weird little turns of language that have reached prominence in the, what do we call this decade anyway? In the 20's century everyone was comfortable from every decade starting in the 1920's to be "the 20's, the sixties, etc." And then everything fell apart at the beginning of the new millennium and we started trying things like the "oughty-oughts.:"
And now there's been nothing to pick up the slack. I fear we are seeing a new generation that doesn't understand the importance of the round-numberness of the decades. We're in our teens now, aren't we?
Sorry, got sidetracked there. What I was going to say is that there's almost no phrase that I utter frequently that makes me feel more awkward than "significant other." Both of my daughters are in their 20's and it seems weird to call a 28 year-old guy a boyfriend. Though I have no trouble referring to my father's 92 year-old girlfriend (he calls her his 'companion.'). So often when I describe everyone coming to the house for Thanksgiving I refer to my daughters and their significant others. And I seem to be able to do it without irony, which is surprising, but it still doesn't seem right.
What made me think about this was the reaction by people we know to their coming, the awkward questions about "where are they going to sleep?" Honestly, do people really still think this way? That a 20-something kids in a serious relationship is not going to sleep in the same bed? "Not under my roof, I tell you!" Says...well, nobody I know. Maybe it's the time I grew up (The Sixties!) and maybe we're just cool parents. Either way I find it kind of laughable, so "Ha."
The word for these adult relationships is a long running joke with me and one of my friends. We remember reading something, in the National Lampoon or some such thing, where a narrator refers to someone as his paramour and then laments, "I wish there were a better word." And of course this is English, so there's almost always a better word, but not for this.
There's nothing inherently wrong with the phrase significant other, aside from the wild variations of meanings you can attach to those words. A significant other could be a statistically meaningful alien. So you could mean that when you're talking about your boyfriend and he'd never know. Are we all okay with that? I'm not sure. I'll be back to you in the 20's.
And now there's been nothing to pick up the slack. I fear we are seeing a new generation that doesn't understand the importance of the round-numberness of the decades. We're in our teens now, aren't we?
Sorry, got sidetracked there. What I was going to say is that there's almost no phrase that I utter frequently that makes me feel more awkward than "significant other." Both of my daughters are in their 20's and it seems weird to call a 28 year-old guy a boyfriend. Though I have no trouble referring to my father's 92 year-old girlfriend (he calls her his 'companion.'). So often when I describe everyone coming to the house for Thanksgiving I refer to my daughters and their significant others. And I seem to be able to do it without irony, which is surprising, but it still doesn't seem right.
What made me think about this was the reaction by people we know to their coming, the awkward questions about "where are they going to sleep?" Honestly, do people really still think this way? That a 20-something kids in a serious relationship is not going to sleep in the same bed? "Not under my roof, I tell you!" Says...well, nobody I know. Maybe it's the time I grew up (The Sixties!) and maybe we're just cool parents. Either way I find it kind of laughable, so "Ha."
The word for these adult relationships is a long running joke with me and one of my friends. We remember reading something, in the National Lampoon or some such thing, where a narrator refers to someone as his paramour and then laments, "I wish there were a better word." And of course this is English, so there's almost always a better word, but not for this.
There's nothing inherently wrong with the phrase significant other, aside from the wild variations of meanings you can attach to those words. A significant other could be a statistically meaningful alien. So you could mean that when you're talking about your boyfriend and he'd never know. Are we all okay with that? I'm not sure. I'll be back to you in the 20's.
Thursday, December 01, 2016
The only thing we need to stress about is stress itself
My senior class, who are now in their second year with me, were telling me today how stressed they were about their midterm in my class. I got uppity about that and told them not to let the stress they're feeling about everything else in their lives bleed over into my test.
The word of the year seems to be stress. I'm trying to think back to when stress was invented. I think it was in late 1990's, with the coming of the new millennium. We all needed a new mental state to carry us through the next 1000 years and the powers that be seem to have settled on stress.
When people tell me they're stressed out, I always mean to ask them what they're talking about. Mind you, I don't ever ask, because if I did they might mistake what I'm asking and start telling me about their lives, but I don't really know what they mean when they say that.
Here's my hypothesis: Stress was invented because people needed a new excuse when "I'm tired" ceased to be believed. Saying that you're stressed is a way of deflecting the blame for you getting yourself into the mess you're in. In nearly all cases I encounter, people claim stress because of outside stuff that's going on. It's never their inability to deal with it. For a while, what people would say when you asked them how they were would be the euphemistic "Too busy." But now they just come right out and say"Stressed out." It's the default reaction to any outside stimulus.
The problem and the reason it's nothing but and excuse is that the outside forces themselves are not inherently stressful. They are just there. A test is not under any stress whatsoever, nor does it contain any stress among its pages. Nor does an IRS audit or a performance review or a budget meeting or college admissions notifications. None of those entities experience any stress. One hundred percent of the stress comes from us and the way we handle ourselves. We're the stressful things, the only stressful things.
And there's a problem with spending so much time and effort learning to deal with stress. The danger is that we're treating the symptoms and ignoring the disease. The world has changed rapidly in the last 10 years and we are not adapting well. We've lost homeostasis and we won't really feel okay until we understand why, no matter what techniques we use.
I'm aware that mine is not the prevailing opinion, and I don't presume to have the answer for anyone else. There are so many books about how we got ourselves into this position that we clearly have no clue, (it's well known that the number of books on a topic is inversely proportional to how well we understand it). That's why I'm not reading any of them. When there's only one book I'll read that. Keep me posted.
I'm not suggesting that there aren't stressful things in the world. But to paraphrase "Born Yesterday," if a building burns down, who are you going to blame, the fire? I think we owe ourselves a good hard look in the mirror and a good round of "What the hell am I doing? What is my life such that I feel so bad? Why am I doing this to myself? What changes should I make?" before we start blaming the world for the fact that we're not able to calmly deal with the world.
The word of the year seems to be stress. I'm trying to think back to when stress was invented. I think it was in late 1990's, with the coming of the new millennium. We all needed a new mental state to carry us through the next 1000 years and the powers that be seem to have settled on stress.
When people tell me they're stressed out, I always mean to ask them what they're talking about. Mind you, I don't ever ask, because if I did they might mistake what I'm asking and start telling me about their lives, but I don't really know what they mean when they say that.
Here's my hypothesis: Stress was invented because people needed a new excuse when "I'm tired" ceased to be believed. Saying that you're stressed is a way of deflecting the blame for you getting yourself into the mess you're in. In nearly all cases I encounter, people claim stress because of outside stuff that's going on. It's never their inability to deal with it. For a while, what people would say when you asked them how they were would be the euphemistic "Too busy." But now they just come right out and say"Stressed out." It's the default reaction to any outside stimulus.
The problem and the reason it's nothing but and excuse is that the outside forces themselves are not inherently stressful. They are just there. A test is not under any stress whatsoever, nor does it contain any stress among its pages. Nor does an IRS audit or a performance review or a budget meeting or college admissions notifications. None of those entities experience any stress. One hundred percent of the stress comes from us and the way we handle ourselves. We're the stressful things, the only stressful things.
And there's a problem with spending so much time and effort learning to deal with stress. The danger is that we're treating the symptoms and ignoring the disease. The world has changed rapidly in the last 10 years and we are not adapting well. We've lost homeostasis and we won't really feel okay until we understand why, no matter what techniques we use.
I'm aware that mine is not the prevailing opinion, and I don't presume to have the answer for anyone else. There are so many books about how we got ourselves into this position that we clearly have no clue, (it's well known that the number of books on a topic is inversely proportional to how well we understand it). That's why I'm not reading any of them. When there's only one book I'll read that. Keep me posted.
I'm not suggesting that there aren't stressful things in the world. But to paraphrase "Born Yesterday," if a building burns down, who are you going to blame, the fire? I think we owe ourselves a good hard look in the mirror and a good round of "What the hell am I doing? What is my life such that I feel so bad? Why am I doing this to myself? What changes should I make?" before we start blaming the world for the fact that we're not able to calmly deal with the world.
Tis the season to be annoyed
I'm annoyed at someone. And I'm annoyed at myself for being annoyed at this person. And I just wanted to let you all know that if it gets to the point where I'm annoyed with myself for getting annoyed with myself, just bury my ashes in the family plot because I will probably have spontaneously burst into flames.
I think if you made a word cloud from school that "annoyed" and "stress" would be the biggest words.
I wrote this next thing for a group of students recently because we were doing a unit on kindness. Yes, they have math teachers doing this. Go figure. Anyway, I thought it might be worth posting:
Trying to be kind without being lame
I think that one of the biggest problems that people have with thinking about being kind is that
“kind” has a connotation of weakness, the same way as “nice.” Someone called me nice to my
face on Friday and a little part of me cringed. I don’t think about being nice; I think about being a
good person. Since part of being a good person is treating others the way you want to be
treated, niceness happens without your trying.
Kindness, however, takes effort. It requires thinking about another person and considering what
would be helpful to them. I was in the supermarket today, carrying two avocados and a tomato.
As I headed toward the plastic bag dispenser, another woman, carrying pears, approached the
same bag dispenser and got there before me. She pulled a bag off and then looked up and
handed it to me. I thanked her and smiled, and it made me feel really good for several minutes
afterwards. That’s what a small act of kindness can do.
Someone in our advisory group asked me if I had a stock line when dealing with customer
service people and I think I said that I didn’t. I realized later that I do. If I carry something over
to the checkout and they ask me if I want a bag, I usually say “No, that’s okay. I got it over here
without a bag and I think I can get it out to my car without one too.” This is slightly cute and
slightly funny, but it always makes cashiers smile.
I think I know why. It’s because when they asked me if I wanted a bag I responded to them as if
they were actually speaking to me, not just reciting a line. And that’s what I do. I also take note of where they are and what they’re doing. I talk about how busy or not busy the store is. If they seem tired I ask how long they’ve been on and when their break is. We discuss the merchandise, or something that’s happening elsewhere in the store.
Here's another example. Today a cashier at Giant routinely asked me "how are you?" and I replied "I'm annoyed at someone..." Both she and the woman behind me in line looked up at me and I continued, "...like most people, I guess." This got nods from both of them and soon the cashier was telling us how upset she is with her constantly-demanding sister and how selfish she was being and how unfair it was. I said, "You know, sometimes people just can't see outside themselves." And she looked at me and smiled and said "You're right. Thank you for that." And off I went with my adult beverages. It made my day.
What those things have in common is that I’m engaging in people's lives to some small degree. I think even customer service people prefer being treated as people and not as devices.
My point here is not to tell you all how wonderful I am. I can be a jerk sometimes just like
anyone else. My point is that sometimes all it takes to be kind to someone is to see them, listen
to them, and think for a moment what might make them smile or what would be helpful. It’s
being thoughtful. And I don’t think there’s anything lame about that.
I think if you made a word cloud from school that "annoyed" and "stress" would be the biggest words.
I wrote this next thing for a group of students recently because we were doing a unit on kindness. Yes, they have math teachers doing this. Go figure. Anyway, I thought it might be worth posting:
Trying to be kind without being lame
I think that one of the biggest problems that people have with thinking about being kind is that
“kind” has a connotation of weakness, the same way as “nice.” Someone called me nice to my
face on Friday and a little part of me cringed. I don’t think about being nice; I think about being a
good person. Since part of being a good person is treating others the way you want to be
treated, niceness happens without your trying.
Kindness, however, takes effort. It requires thinking about another person and considering what
would be helpful to them. I was in the supermarket today, carrying two avocados and a tomato.
As I headed toward the plastic bag dispenser, another woman, carrying pears, approached the
same bag dispenser and got there before me. She pulled a bag off and then looked up and
handed it to me. I thanked her and smiled, and it made me feel really good for several minutes
afterwards. That’s what a small act of kindness can do.
Someone in our advisory group asked me if I had a stock line when dealing with customer
service people and I think I said that I didn’t. I realized later that I do. If I carry something over
to the checkout and they ask me if I want a bag, I usually say “No, that’s okay. I got it over here
without a bag and I think I can get it out to my car without one too.” This is slightly cute and
slightly funny, but it always makes cashiers smile.
I think I know why. It’s because when they asked me if I wanted a bag I responded to them as if
they were actually speaking to me, not just reciting a line. And that’s what I do. I also take note of where they are and what they’re doing. I talk about how busy or not busy the store is. If they seem tired I ask how long they’ve been on and when their break is. We discuss the merchandise, or something that’s happening elsewhere in the store.
Here's another example. Today a cashier at Giant routinely asked me "how are you?" and I replied "I'm annoyed at someone..." Both she and the woman behind me in line looked up at me and I continued, "...like most people, I guess." This got nods from both of them and soon the cashier was telling us how upset she is with her constantly-demanding sister and how selfish she was being and how unfair it was. I said, "You know, sometimes people just can't see outside themselves." And she looked at me and smiled and said "You're right. Thank you for that." And off I went with my adult beverages. It made my day.
What those things have in common is that I’m engaging in people's lives to some small degree. I think even customer service people prefer being treated as people and not as devices.
My point here is not to tell you all how wonderful I am. I can be a jerk sometimes just like
anyone else. My point is that sometimes all it takes to be kind to someone is to see them, listen
to them, and think for a moment what might make them smile or what would be helpful. It’s
being thoughtful. And I don’t think there’s anything lame about that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)