At some point in this country, failure to quietly accept other people’s rudeness became viewed as the greater act of rudeness. Expecting people to be civil is often viewed as un-civil.
Also, more and more broad, anodyne statements are capable of being construed as partisan political statements.
Note: I did not say “misconstrued.”
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Is there a one-word phrase that means the opposite of bravado? I can’t think of one, but whatever it is, Phil Collins is loaded with it. It’s strange to look back and remember that he was a hit solo artist, lead singer of a hit band, a legendary drummer, producer of several hit albums for other artists, a guest star on popular TV shows, and eventually starred in a movie, all while carrying off his “What, me? I’m just an ordinary balding man in a slightly oversized suit” vibe. That’s a tough trick to pull off. You have to respect it.
I really did want to grow up to be Phil Collins when I was in middle school. Part of it was that he managed to be cool while being bald and physically unimpressive. I had seen my father and my uncles. I knew where things were going. Back in those pre-Picard days, if you wanted a role model who was comfortable with their baldness, your choices were Phil or Telly Savalas.
(Note: This performance has been one my go-to “weird things you can find on the internet” for a few years, but this is the first time I’ve seen this extended version, which shows Telly was performing on a German variety show. Now I wonder if it’s not actually an example of Telly Savalas trying his hardest to be cool, but might be something he was inflicting upon the Germans as revenge for the war.)
Note from Missy: I feel like the opposite of bravado would be cowardice. Which doesn’t quite describe Phil Collins’s particular brand of weepy, freshly-dumped, playing-the-blame-game songwriting.
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Back in my old office job, the company headquarters would occasionally send us “corporate trainers” in a vain attempt to fix whatever was wrong with us. It was part of my job to help the trainers set up. This usually involved setting out chairs, rigging the A/V system, arranging visual aids, making sure everyone in the office knew what was happening, when it was happening, and why they wanted to be there to see it. Usually I’d end up introducing the trainer to the staff at the beginning of their presentation. At the risk of sounding full of myself, I usually got high marks from my supervisors at how efficiently and effectively I managed these tasks.
I don’t think it ever occurred to them that the skills I used in those situations were the same as the ones I honed doing awful one-night-stand comedy shows in hotel bars, which, sadly, had been my bread and butter, thus making it inevitable that I would eventually take on an office job.
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If someone actually came up with a pill that instantly stopped all itching, they would win a Nobel Prize.
That said, we need itchiness. Itching is an important early warning system for your skin. A fine elementary school educational film could be made about how we all need to itch sometimes. Some poor guy tries to ask a girl out, but keeps scratching his nose, so of course she says, “In your dreams, Itchy.” In his anger he wishes he would never itch again. At the end of his first itch free day his face is all dry and peeling, his rough wool sweater has rubbed his torso raw, his arms are covered with mosquito bites he failed to notice, and we don’t even want to mention anything going on below his waist.
He’s never going to get a date now! Oh, how he wishes he itched again!
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This is not a political statement.
Donald Trump Jr. has written and is self-publishing a book. A great many people took a tremendous amount of joy in pointing out that there is a typo on the front cover, in the book’s subtitle.
I don’t bring this up to shame him. (I don’t actually think that’s possible. [That wasn’t a political statement. Don Junior’s not technically a politician, since he has never run for office {yet, ugh}.]) I bring it up to illustrate the point that if you’ re going to self-publish a book, you should definitely spring to have it professionally proofread if it’s at all possible. When I wrote my first novel I didn’t, and I still regret it.
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I didn’t mind the last season of Game of Thrones. I’ll admit they made some decisions I didn’t like, but they made others that I did. That makes Game of Thrones the same as almost every other show ever made.
It takes a lot for me to declare a TV show or movie bad these days. I mean, there are things I don’t have any interest in watching, but I don’t watch those things. If something is interesting to me, I can usually find something worthwhile in it. Sometimes I can overlook huge problems if I really like other aspects of a production. As I’ve pointed out before, I watch DUNE at least once a year, and most of the people who made that movie admit it makes almost no sense.
I’m not alone in this. I just watched 45 minutes of Joe Russo and Taika Waititi talking about how much they love the movie Flash Gordon.
Also, back on the subject of Game of Thrones, you could have that cast do a table read of the script from an old episode of The Love Boat and I would probably enjoy it.
Liam Cunningham would play Capt. Stubing, of course.
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Rick and I are always in more of a hurry to share bad news with each other than good. I think the issue is that sharing good news can easily begin to feel like bragging, which is a terrible, antisocial habit, and is also one of the tell-tale signs of something we both find offensive: healthy self-esteem.
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Back in my old office job we had these weekly social events every Thursday afternoon, just to blow off steam. Usually, little pockets of conversation would form in different parts of the room. This is way back while they were filming the movie version of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. A few of us office nerds were pretty excited about it. While we were discussing the casting I said, “They got Alan Rickman to be the voice of Marvin.”
This apparently got the attention of a coworker across the room, whom I will call Jim.
Jim semi-shouted at me, “Who’d they get?”
Bear in mind that he stayed where he was, across the room from me, as he interjected himself into my conversation.
I said, “Alan Rickman,” now self-conscious because all other conversation has stopped and Jim and I had the room’s undivided attention.
Jim said, “Oh. Who’s he playing?”
I said, “He’s the voice of Marvin.”
Jim thought about this for a second and said, “Oh. Huh.”
I said, “Yeah, I think it’s a good fit.”
Then Jim asked, “What movie is this in?”
And I said, “Man, why do I even talk to you?!”
It’s a miracle that I by accident found my way into an office where they would not only tolerate me talking to a coworker that way, but where it got a big laugh from the entire room. I was later told by more than one coworker that they had often asked themselves why they even talked to Jim.
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